#and they happen to be Hozier coded | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jamminvroomvroom · 9 months ago

Note

I absolutely adore your writing,

For the celebration, could you please do virgin reader first time with Oscar?

sunshine.

op x fem!reader - 4k celebration

in which oscar arrives home to an unexpected guest…

hi hi hi! thank you so much anon, i hope this is what you wanted!! trying to get through requests, loving hearing from you guys! this one is so cute i think, let me know ur thoughts 😚😚

songs to set the mood: fall in love with you by montell fish, fade into you by mazzy star, like real people do by hozier

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! smut, fluff, friends to lovers, sleepy baby oscar, teeny tiny bit of angst, mutual pining, r’s first time, swearing

2.9k words

oscar’s exhausted, shoulders sagging beneath the thick material of his mclaren hoodie. he’s glad he left it in his carry on, the miserable london weather not even remotely living up to the warm glow of the middle eastern sun.

he craves his bed, dreamless sleep, entering the code to get into his building and slumping against the cool mirrored wall of the elevator. his eyes droop as the lift travels up, and the ding that sounds when he reaches his floor breathes life back into him.

the double header that kickstarted the season has knackered him, and he longs for alone time and silence to recuperate before he has to deal with the noise of going home and racing in front of a familiar crowd.

his key slides into the lock and he pushes the door open, throwing his bags by the door - he’ll deal with them later. the hoodie is shrugged off and dropped haphazardly on the floor next to the shoes he kicks off. his bed is calling. dazed, he trudges down the hallway, but he’s spooked by a faint sound coming from his bedroom.

as he primes himself to investigate, he hears footsteps, light and quiet against the floorboards. he goes to open his bedroom door, breathing heavy, but he just about jumps out of his skin when it swings open before he gets there. he yelps, and so do you, leaping into the air.

“you scared the shit out of me.” you shout, hand over your thumping heart.

“i scared you? what are you doing here?” oscar bites back, running his hand through his brown locks.

“sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to be here without your permission but… it’s a long story. i didn’t think you’d be home yet.” you smile apologetically.

“sofa.” oscar mumbles, stalking past his bedroom and towards the living room. “what’s goi- are you wearing my shirt?” he splutters, finally looking at you properly.

your face heats up, and you cross your arms awkwardly.

“um, yeah? god, this is all so embarrassing.” you cover your face, falling onto the sofa. he plonks down beside you.

“tell me what happened.” oscar sighs.

“he dumped me.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“why?” oscar asks softly. “ugh, i knew i hated him for a reason.” he wrinkles his nose.

“i don’t know how to explain this without wading into major tmi territory.” your voice is small, quivering slightly.

“you can tell me, love.” he encourages gently.

“he found it weird that i’m, uh, a virgin?” you squeak, your voice raising into a question. oscar goes as red as you are.

“oh. oh.”

“oh god, you’re freaked out too. is there something wrong with me? like, why has this not happened? i thought i was ready with him, but then when it came down to it…” you ramble, trailing off.

“there’s nothing wrong with you.” oscar states, firm and serious. “him, on the other hand.” he shakes his head, disgusted. “he wasn’t good enough for you.” he spits.

“do you mind if i stay here?” you whisper, leaning into his side. “or, keep staying here?” you laugh softly. oscar joins in.

“you know you can always stay here.” he smiles sleepily. you’re just about the only person in the world he can stand right now, and always, actually. “but i need a nap, you coming?”

you nod and follow him to his room. the tv is still on, the one with monica and chandlers wedding playing quietly. oscar smiles. he knows it’s your favourite.

he flops onto his side of the bed, dropping off almost instantly. you watch over him, enamoured and sympathetic, in awe of him and the life he lives. you slip into bed beside him, leaving a respectable distance between you and the aussie.

you pass out right around chandler’s vows.

you stir between two thick arms. pale, warm skin is wrapped around you, oscar’s soft breath fanning your face as he sleeps.

you watch him, scanning each and every mole on his face, trying to ground yourself. you combat the anxiety of being in his arms, choosing to enjoy the moment, while he’s still peaceful. it’s nice to feel wanted, even if he’s unconscious.

for the first time, you’re glad your ex broke up with you, because how does it make sense that you feel safer, more wanted in the arms of your best friend?

“stop staring, ‘m gonna blush.” oscar mumbles, clearing his throat. his eyes are still shut, but he just knows you too well.

oscar opens his eyes slowly, blinking away sleep. you stare at each other, comfortable silence eating away at the palpable tension.

you kiss him.

because why wouldn’t you? it’s oscar, your oscar, and he’s sleepy and cosy and gorgeous, and you’ve waited too fucking long. you can’t resist it any longer, free from the bounds of being someone else’s.

his lips are warm, and he’s startled, but the surprise doesn’t falter him; just as quickly as you kiss him, he’s kissing you back. his large hand finds your face, and the other finds your waist, pulling you closer. you melt into him, impossibly closer than you already were.

he’s gentle with you, tentative but firm and you part your lips, letting him lick into your mouth. his tongue strokes softly over yours and you keen at the sensation. he pushes you onto your back, balancing on his elbow half hovering over you. your hair fans out onto the pillow, his soft fingers running through your strands, pushing them away from your flushed face. oscar pulls away, scanning your face.

“sorry.” you smile up at him, breathless.

“apology very much accepted. i’ve been wondering when that would happen.” he laughs incredulously.

“really?”

“what can i say? i’m irresistible.” he replies dryly, exercising his sense of humour that was a foundation of your friendship.

“yeah. you kinda are.” you giggle bashfully.

and then he’s kissing you again, pressing himself even closer to you. you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his lean frame, feeling over his shoulders. he’s tense, restrained, groaning into you at the feeling of your hands raking over his back.

“we should stop.” he mumbles, noses bumping. you frown.

“why?”

“because you said earlier, you’re not ready for this and i’m… well, things are gonna get real awkward if we keep going.” he chokes out half a laugh, glancing down at his-

“oh.”

“yeah, i just, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. we can go slow.”

“osc, i wasn’t ready with him,” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “but you’re not him.”

“i suppose that’s true.” he shrugs.

“then you better do something.”

oscar lays you back, climbing over you completely this time. his trails over your jaw, taking your chin between his fingers.

“are you sure about this? we can stop anytime, just say the words.”

“‘m sure, oscar. i want to do this with you.” you coo, reassuringly.

his lips run over your neck, your collarbone, and he mouths at the collar of the t-shirt that you’re wearing. his t-shirt. his.

“gonna take this off, yeah?” he asks, whispering low, right by your ear.

“yeah, please.” you say, your own hands running under his t-shirt and up his muscular back. he’s relaxed now, no tension between his shoulder blades, and so you push the material up, and he slips it over his head. his warm digits peel your shirt off, too, and you’re warm all over when his eyes trail over your chest.

you’d forgone a bra, ditching it when you’d arrived at his place, and his pupils are blown wide, hazel hues sparkling with desire. his hands slide up your ribcage, thumbing at the underside of your breasts, while he plants open mouthed kisses down your chest. your eyes flutter shut, gasping softly as he skims your nipple.

“oscar.” you breathe, the light whimper sending his blood rushing south.

“does that feel good?” he asks, searching your face for answers.

“more.” you sound strained, desperate, and he aches.

his sucks your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he toys with the other one, massaging your breast with his skilful fingers, tweaking and pulling until you’re panting beneath him. he pulls away with a pop, licking over to the other side, deciding to test your limits when he nips delicately at the peak. you moan, bucking your hips, hypersensitive to his every move.

you can feel how hard he is, his grey joggers growing tighter with every passing second.

“want all of you, osc.” you plead.

“need to get you ready for me first, okay honey?” he rubs circles into your sides, warm and calloused. you relax fully, lifting your hips.

oscar mouthed over your belly, peppering sunshine-like kisses down your abdomen until he finds the band of your loose shorts. he mumbles something into you navel about taking them off and you nod, enthusiastic and frantic. you can feel his smile branding your sensitive skin. the material glides down your thighs, pooling at your ankles, and you kick them away. he parts your thighs, making himself comfortable on his belly, and thumbs at the crease of your leg, toying with your panties.

he drags his pointer finger over your covered slit, up and down slowly, applying more pressure every time he brushes over your clit. oscar can see where you’re starting to seep through your panties and he stifles a low groan, anxious to peel the cotton off of your body, the final barrier separating him from you, so he does, pulling them slowly down your legs. he studies your face as he does, keeping his eyes firmly on yours. your lip catches between your teeth, aching as you watch, helpless and wet.

oscar kisses your hip bone, sucking gently until he’s stained it purple, and then his warm breath is fanning your cunt. your eyes squeeze shut.

“look at me, baby. gotta keep your eyes on me.” oscar mutters. your pussy clenches around nothing at the tone of his voice. you pry your eyes open, just about managing to prop yourself up on your elbows. “that’s it, honey. has anyone ever done this to you before?”

you shake your head, no. he smiles to himself, like he knows something you don’t, and dives in.

his tongue works in slow strokes, dragging through your slick with intent, eyes locked with yours. you must look like a deer in headlights, pupils blown, shocked with pleasure when you collapse against the mattress. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking, tasting, and your legs go weak, splayed open all for him. you whimper as he tugs your clit between his teeth, just enough to graze over the sensitive nerves. it sends your hips flying, bucking wildly against his face.

“osc…” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.

“‘m gonna give you some more, is that okay?” he asks, nose bumping your clit.

“yes, please.” you don’t know what more is, but you need it like air.

you feel a finger glide over your sodden flesh, rubbing over your entrance. you sigh out, oh, anticipation and bliss sending white heat down your spine. he circles his finger around your opening, coating it in you, and carefully slides it in, feeling out for any sign of tension or discomfort. when you grind your hips onto the single digit, he knows you’re okay.

it feels good, better than anything you’d ever felt on your own, and you writhe against his bedspread. he thrusts a couple of times, experimenting, seeing what makes you squirm for him the right way, and when his finger curls, hooking deliciously, he knows he’s struck gold. you arch off the bed, searching for more, more, anything.

“another one.” you cry, begging, and oscar’s not one to tease. not yet, anyway.

a second finger joins the lonesome first, and he finds some pace, fucking into you faster. he scissors the digits, stretching you out for him, enjoying the pretty view. he’s achingly hard now, rocking discreetly into the mattress, losing his mind as he watches how you drip around his fingers. he wants another taste of you, addicted already to sweet, salty honey, so he has to finish you off, lap your mess off of his long fingers.

“i think- i think-“ you can’t get the words out, they’re lost on your tongue, but oscar knows what you mean.

“that’s it, baby. so good for me, doing so good. cum for me.” he spurs you on, drawing it out of you.

you let go, crashing biblically, the high sending you to heaven and back, two times over. he grinds his fingers, softer, just enough to help you through it and you chant his name like you’re praying at an alter. you know that you’ll never be over this. your oscar.

“holy shit.” you giggle, smiling lazily as you return to the world of the living. he’s licking his fingers clean; you could black out so easily.

“did you enjoy that?” he punctuates with a kiss to your belly, crawling up your body until he’s hovering over you.

“maybe you should do it again, just so that i can really make sure that i did.” you tease. your hand rakes through his hair, pushing it back off of his face. he’s grinning down at you, eyes fluttering shut. “that was amazing.” you whisper. he’s blushing when he kisses you, and then you are too, when you taste yourself on his tongue.

he moans against your lips, making you pull back. your hand leaves his brown strands, joining your other, which is currently voyaging down his back.

“you’re wearing too many clothes.” you whisper, lips bumping his as your hands slide under the waistband of his sweats. something desperate emits from the back of his throat. you push them over his hips, fisting the thick fabric, eager to have him bare on top of you once and for all. oscar helps, kicking them away, boxers too.

you can feel him, thick and wet between your thighs, his breathing uneven. your nails graze his hip and he jolts, collapsing on top of you, his full weight covering your keening body. he kisses into the crook of your neck, frantic; you need him deep, immediately, his urgent change in form leaving you flushed.

“you want me?” he whispers into your ear, leaving you shivering.

“so bad.” you pant.

“i’ll be gentle.” he promises.

he guides himself through your folds, slippery and warm, all for him. he nudges the head inside of you, hips stuttering at the blinding tightness. you gasp, but he catches it in his mouth, softly moulding his lips to yours as he pushes further. you open up for him, pliant, and when he eventually bottoms out, he holds himself there, letting you adjust.

“oh, fuck.” your eyes roll back, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders.

“so good for me, so pretty.” oscar grunts. “say when, baby.” he breathes, rubbing soothing circles into your hip.

“move.”

oscar rolls his hips, rocking you into the mattress. he hooks your knee over his waist, driving himself deeper and deeper with every thrust. you’re boneless, lost to the delectable stretch, to the way his cock seems to touch every part of you that makes you quiver.

“tell me how it feels.” oscar murmurs, grip tightening on your thigh.

“fuck, oscar, it’s so good. ‘m so glad it’s you.” your voice shakes, raw with emotion.

“me fucking too.” he mumbles, increasing his pace ever so slightly.

his thrusts lull into more of a grind, reaching your depths and revelling in the way you only get tighter for him. you’re spilling around him, already so close to meeting your end, and all it takes is the calloused pad of his thumb brushing your bundle of nerves to have you convulsing. you’re somewhere else entirely, on a whole other spiritual plane, utterly and completely his as he fucks you through your second orgasm.

when he spills, white hot and sweat slicked, he gushes endless hushed whines of your name. it sounds perfect when he says it like this, rolling off of his tongue with dire urgency.

his dampened hair falls over his darkened eyes, full of stars and total adoration. you’re smiling sleepily up at him like he’s made of sunshine. you always thought he was, and now you know that he most definitely is.

the most beautiful sunshine man.

“hi.” he whispers.

“hi.” you whisper back.

an intimacy, different to the one you’ve just shared, blossoms between you, encapsulating you here with him endlessly.

“i’m gonna clean you up, ‘n then we’re gonna order food.” he gazes fondly, stroking your hair.

“perfect.” you agree.

“put friends back on, i’m gonna run you a bath.” he begrudgingly stands from the bed, trailing towards the en-suite.

“you’re gonna join me in there, right?” you admire his naked frame as he disappears into the bathroom.

“obviously.” he pokes his head out once more to scoff, and you lay there, grinning like the worlds most lovesick idiot, your thoughts dulled by the sound of running water.

when the bath is full of hot water and too many bubbles, he gets in first, and you sink into the revitalising heat. oscar pulls you close, your back to his chest, kissing over your hairline as you mould yourself against him.

“thank god you broke in.”

oh i’m soft

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lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

2K notes · View notes

httpsserene · 6 months ago

Note

Gosh please please please can you write something daniel x reader maybe inspired by too sweet by hozier when he thinks(some internal turmoil cuz he can't stay away from her) she's too sweet/innocent for him or something like but it turns out to be further from the truth?? I love love love your writing, i think about please's and thank you's at least three times a day since i read it. You're so immensely talented!!!

I'd really really appreciate it.

(i don't mind age gap(like up to 10years), some kinky smut or even a bit of morally grey characters as long as there are no explicit mentions of past relationships or cheating and etc., happy ending plss, and I won't mind if you add a pinch of "who did this to you")

Ly ly ly

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐓𝐒𝐀

Summary: She’s too pure for him. She hasn’t been damaged by life like he has and he hopes you never will be. So, that’s why Daniel can never allow himself to be with her. He knows she’s convinced herself that she can fix him, but he knows that the longer he sticks around, the more he’s ruining her. He finds it cynical: their relationship (or lack of a relationship) reads like one of the books she’s obsessed with: right person wrong time or forbidden love. Daniel learns that it might be a little darker of a trope—like one of her books that she never allows him to see a page of. Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. implied sexual content. mild!yandere!reader. stalking. sabotage. angst with a happy ending. lando and max are here. not edited at all. mentioned alcoholism. pov switch. fights? idk danny gets his ass beat. possessive!reader. can you find the hozier inspo in here? probably. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader (black-coded? but not mentioned in the fic, i think) Word Count: 2.7k words.

Author’s Notes: okay! this is past me (6/11) hoping that the tumblr queue doesn’t do me dirty! this should be posted on thursday, because i won’t be able to manually post it on my own as i’ll be hiking in san diego the whole day :p

this was formatted on mobile so please ignore how ugly it looks :( and also ignore the ugly writing i’ve never written dark/morally gray characters so i’m pretty sure i did your request like terribly LMAO. um also i couldn’t find a way to write smut into it? so again i apologize for that :/

anyways, please bare with me. i’ll make it pretty when i get back to my computer…on sunday 🥴

prev 2k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

Daniel meets you in the elevator. At first, he thought you were a Formula One fan who snuck into the condo trying to get a glimpse of your favorite driver (himself, obviously) but, he learned that you’re his new next-door neighbor. It was awkward; he accused you of following him to his room and felt like the world’s worst person when you—dressed in the cutest pink dress and matching flowy bow tied in your hair—stared at him terrified, before you unlocked the door to your flat and slammed the door behind you quickly without a word.

He sent you a bouquet of pink orchids the next morning, along with a hand written card apologizing for his rude behavior and that he hoped the two of you could become good neighbors and friends. It seemed all was fixed, as the next time he ran into you, you greeted him softly, like nothing had happened. It was 5 A.M: you were starting your day and Daniel was ending his night.

Daniel was on his third drunken attempt of shoving his key vaguely in the direction of his lock on the door, when you exited your flat with a yoga mat over your shoulder and a water bottle that was comically large. With a hushed ‘good morning,’ you kindly helped Daniel into his apartment, telling him to drink a big glass of water and have pain killers ready when he wakes up; there was no judgment in your wide brown eyes, only tenderness, and a slight hint of worry. He woke up after twelve at the sound of a knock, his head pulsing with pressure and his sight slightly blurry from not quite sleeping all the drunk away.

He eventually made it to his front door and found that you ordered him lunch: a chicken wrap and sweet potato chips, from one of his favorite brunch cafés—Daniel figured you have good taste, as he doesn’t recall ever telling you about this meal in either of the two interactions you’ve had. So, he ate, drank plenty of water, freshened up, and debated if he should go over and express his gratitude, or whatever. He decided he will, and found himself putting on a nice watch and a few too many sprays of his expensive smelling cologne. Daniel didn’t let any thoughts of why he was prettying himself up cross his mind; he’s simply thanking you; a girl far too young, and probably far too sweet for his tastes.

You brushed off his thanks shyly, hidden behind your door with a blush strong enough Daniel saw it paint your dimpled cheeks and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away. Thinking quick enough to rival his reflexes, he offered to exchange phone numbers so the two of you could meet up and he could buy you a coffee. You entered your name in his phone with a yellow heart next to it.

The coffee meet-up had to wait due to Daniel’s hectic schedule, yet the texting flourished. He initiated the beginning of your text thread the next day, mindlessly texting you about how he overheard Emilio (another neighbor) arguing with his wife on the phone; Daniel said she’s probably going to mail him divorce papers within the next week. You replied that it was mean to eavesdrop and gossip. Daniel followed up saying it’s not eavesdropping if said person was screaming into his phone in the hallway, and he wasn’t gossiping, he’s merely keeping you informed.

Daniel laughed in the middle of his motorhome listening to the voice message you sent four days later, eagerly telling him about how you saw Emilio in the lobby with a couple boxes and without a wedding ring on his finger.

It was a warm morning, when you and Daniel finally managed to meet for coffee. You scrunched your nose in distaste when he ordered plain black coffee; Daniel did the same when you ordered a drink that was mainly milk and sugar. Daniel chuckled when you claimed the amount of coffee in your drink had you wired for the rest of the day. He decided to let you believe that, and not inform you that it was most likely the sugar content that had you crashing hours later.

Daniel invited you over for burgers one night and you comment that his home looks like a mix of a “mojo dojo casa house” and a “minimalistic hell.” You gifted him a throw blanket and a potted plant the next day, and continued to text him reminders about watering it.

Around 10 P.M. on another night, he’s yelling at Max for cheating at fifa. Max laughed around the lip of his beer bottle before the two of them paused at the sound of a knock. Daniel checked the door and opened it to see you: fuzzy slippers, eye-mask on your forehead, bonnet, matching pajama set, and pout on your lips with a sleepy tilt to your eyebrows. He apologized for the noise and promised to quiet down. Daniel threatened to kick the Dutchman out when he teased him for having a “crush.” He doesn’t get crushes, he’s a grown man.

Daniel spends less time in night clubs and more time with you. You took him to sip and paint nights, pottery classes, hiking, even bookstores. You order him to not open any of the books he’s holding for you; Daniel tries to take a peek when you scan through one and you slam the book shut, saying it’s too dark for your liking. He doesn’t comment when you end up getting it (Daniel paid).

He kissed you in your apartment, halfway through Howl’s Moving Castle. He proceeded to tell you it was a mistake. You teared up when he said you were too pure for him, arguing back that you weren’t a child. The tears fell when Daniel claimed he’s too old for you, that he’d only hurt you. He returned to his apartment, figurative tail tucked between his legs, and heard you crying through the wall. He fell asleep hating himself.

Daniel distanced himself from you; he misses your shared adventures and condo gossip, but he never forgets to water your potted plant, even without your texts. He fell back into the clubs, bringing home various women but never manages to get them in bed due to various things going wrong. He gets stuck in the elevator with Stephanie who happened to claustrophobic for hours, locked in the stairwell with Sofia who sprains her ankle in five-inch heels, the fire-alarm interrupts him and Kiana just as he unlocks the door, and his kitchen sink burst when he lifted Laura on the counter.

He tries to console Laura, who runs from his flat in drenched clothes, and sees you staring at her in confusion from your doorway as she rushes past. Daniel apologizes for waking you again, and you shrug, ignoring his words, murmuring that he should call maintenance before he floods the entire floor and shutting your door in his face.

Your potted plant starts to wilt, no matter if Daniel moves it in or out of direct sunlight, if he waters it less or more, or if he changes the soil, or adds fertilizer. The universe has it out for Daniel.

He finds himself in an ultra-private lounge, dim-lighting, sultry piano, and dark decor enhancing his dramatics as he reveals how he ruined his life to Max, Lando, and the bartender who will be tipped handsomely for pretending to care. The piano fades to the end of the piece just as Daniel wraps up his lament.

“It sounds like you deserve it, honestly,” Max stated bluntly, Lando nodding agreeably at his side.

Daniel groans into his hands, lifting his head to say that he’s already aware of that, but freezes when he sees you rise from the seat of the piano. Your figure is snug within a floor length, backless, black dress, complemented with gold jewelry, and makeup that opposes your angelic nature. You bow your head slightly in the direction of the tables clapping at your performance, stumbling briefly when your eyes meet Daniel’s. You smile softly and begin to make your way over to him.

“Oh, fuck,” Daniel shrinks into his seat, as the other two drivers stare at him in confusion.

“Hi, neighbor,” you start airily, before turning to smile at Lando and Max, “Hello.”

“You didn’t tell me you worked here,” Daniel mentions.

“You never asked,” you narrow your eyes at him, before relaxing, “I also don’t work here—this is my brother’s bar. The pianist suddenly fell sick and I offered to fill in.”

“Oh,” Daniel hums, “This doesn’t seem like your type of scene.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, “You should know better than to tell me where, what, or who I do or do not belong with.”

“Okay!” Lando claps, kicking Daniel’s shin under the table, everyone ignores his muffled groan of pain, “Sit with us for a minute, if you can take a break. Danny is seriously obsessed with you.”

You take the offered chair next to Max and sigh, “Really? I couldn’t tell,” all three men wince at your dig, but you continue, “Did he tell you that he almost flooded the entire floor last week?”

Daniel watches as you charm his friends, the three of you chattering happily over his demise, and ignoring him as you do so. He can’t find it in himself to be annoyed, only thankful, as this is the first time in weeks that you’ve been in his presence for more than five minutes. You smell so good. Is that weird of Daniel to think?

Unfortunately, the four of you are interrupted far too soon. Your brother calls you over from behind the bar; his expression is less than pleased, jaw tensed with irritation, and Daniel thinks the look in his eyes has a hint of crazy. He wonders if you told your brother about him. Hopefully not—the man looks like he could fold Daniel like a lawn chair without breaking a sweat. The three men watch as you argue with your brother; it doesn’t seem like it’s going in your favor.

Lando calls Daniel’s name, “Mate—she’s good for you.”

“Nah, mate. I’ll only ruin her.”

“Daniel,” Max scolds, “The few months you were ditching us for her were the happiest I’ve seen you. I wasn’t worried that you would be passed out in a random club or yacht after giving yourself alcohol poisoning.”

“She’s sweet, Danny. I think she’s exactly what you need,” Lando adds, “You've convinced yourself that you don’t deserve anything good. She’s trying to prove you wrong and you need to let her.”

He doesn’t answer verbally, he chooses to shake his head and remain silent. You make your way over to the table again and stand in front of them with a pout.

“It’s past my bedtime, apparently,” you huff, turning your head to glare at your brother, “Don’t worry about paying tonight, it’s on the house.” You exchange polite goodbyes with Lando and Max, Daniel gets a soft smile. He watches you leave the bar with a sad tilt to his lips, then orders a shot of whiskey.

You’re sat on your couch, freshly showered and ready for bed. It’s 1 A.M. and Daniel usually doesn’t end his nights out for another hour. So, it makes sense for you to be worried when you see his location nearing your shared condo building an hour early. Did you sneakily (his phone password is his birthday, it wasn’t that hard) use his phone and share his own location with you? Yes. But, you did it with good intentions. You worry about him when he’s not with you.

You decide to go down to the lobby and pretend to ask if you received any packages in hopes of intercepting Daniel when he walks in. You don’t manage to step out of the elevator when you suddenly have an armful of a bruised-up Australian. His lip is busted and you can see a bruise blooming high on his right cheekbone. You start to shake with anger.

Furiously pressing the button of your floor and slamming the ‘close door’ button, you frantically question Daniel, “What the hell? I left you not even two hours ago, and you look like a mess. Did you get into a fight, did you get mugged, did you—“

“Did your brother beat my ass for hurting you?” Daniel groans, not fighting your motions as you tug him out of the elevator and into your flat, “Yes, he did.”

You pause and grumble angrily, forcing Daniel to take a seat on your couch. You rush into your kitchen for ice, then to the bathroom for a first aid kit. He doesn’t fight when you order him to ice his cheek, and lets you hold his face to tilt his head at every angle possible, as if it’ll expose any more damage. Eventually, you end up looking into his eyes, pretending that you have the knowledge to know what a possible concussion looks like, even though you really just wanted an excuse to look at him.

Unconsciously, your thumb rubs soothingly along his temple, Daniel leans further into your hand. His tongue flicks out for a brief second, and he flinches when it disturbs the cut on his bottom lip. Blinking rapidly, you clear the haze from your eyes and frown as you turn to rifle through the first aid kit.

“I can’t believe he put his hands on you,” you bite out angrily, finding a disinfectant cloth to clean his lip, “I don’t know why I tell him anything anymore.”

Daniel winces at the sting of alcohol, remaining quiet as he watches the focus that covers your expression.

“I apologize for him,” you mumble, “He doesn’t think clearly when it comes to me, he thinks he’s like my guard dog or something,” you dispose of the wipe and grab an ointment, “I promise you I told him that the only thing you did was waste my time and hurt my feelings,” Daniel deflates under your hands, “It’s not like you physically hurt me…or anything. He’s just an idiot. I’ll kill him.”

At that, Daniel laughs quietly, dropping the ice from his cheek so you can clean that too, “Don’t say that. You’re such a sweetheart, you couldn’t hurt your own brother. Also—I’m not sure if he hoped this would make me stay away from you, because if you keep rubbing my face like that, I might fall in love.”

You hum, pleased you have him eating out of the palm of your hand, “Have some decorum, Daniel. You sound desperate. Also, he knows that I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“Oh? You’re possessive,” Daniel teases, “Is it bad if I kinda like that?”

Your heart flutters, he’s really the best for you. He doesn’t need to know about the lengths you went to ensure any of the girls he tried to bring home didn't make it into his bed. It's a shame Sofia sprained her ankle; that was not intentional on your part.

You shrug lightly, “No, it’s not bad. I think it makes you perfect for me. As long as you don’t mind a little crazy. And—don’t think you’re off the hook. You still have to apologize for making me cry.”

Daniel nods seriously, “I’ll fall to my knees and beg right now, if that’s what it takes.”

Sticking a plaster over his cheek, you stand and gesture for him to do so too, “Okay. Kneel.”

“Huh,” he chokes, eyes wide with disbelief, “You’re serious?”

“If you beg well enough, I’ll let you eat me out.”

The sound of his knees hitting the floor echoes.

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#serene’s chapters.#httpss :// 2k special #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fic #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 x black!reader #formula 1 x reader #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: dr.

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withwritersblock · 9 months ago

Text

Too Sweet

~Too Sweet by Hozier~

Author's Note: this is inspired by that transition trend on tiktok and my friend suggested it to me lol Summary: Luke is so down bad for Y/N idk how else to summarize it lol Warnings: implied smut Word Count: 2,328 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

Luke stood in the bathroom running his fingers through his curls, trying to achieve the perfect messy but put together look. He was wearing a slick all black suit. It was Casino Night for the New Jersey Devils. It was a charity event where they got to dress in their best suits and gamble for charity.

Luke should’ve been excited, he was excited for the whole money raising aspect. But he was not prepared to put on a show for all of the cameras. He licked his lips nervously as Y/N walked into the bathroom. She wore a tight floor length gown. It was black with glitter all over it.

The dress code for the event was black tie and the players were dliberately told to not ignore the dress code. Since some of the players tend to dress down for games, the staff didn’t want that to happen for this event.

Which meant their dates to the event had to wear elegant dresses. He tilted his head to the side to admire her frame. His cheeks flushed red as he fought off the smirk forming on his lips.

“Is it too much? I’ve got other options,” she muttered as she was adjusting the earrings on her ear. He shook his head instantly, he was frozen as his eyes continued to scan her frame. Her skin went warm as she watched Luke continue to admire every single inch of her body. “Luke,” she let out shyly as she looked towards the ceiling.

He dryly chuckled as he ran his hand over his chin, “Where have you been hiding this?” he mumbled as he took a step towards her, his hands hesitantly reaching towards her. She met his gaze as she shyly pulled her lips between her teeth.

“You haven’t taken me somewhere fancy,” she said as she turned around to start walking out of the bathroom. He hummed as he finally rested his hands onto her waist pulling her towards him.

“We don’t have to go anywhere,” He mumbled as he pressed his lips on her exposed shoulder. He slowly trailed his lips from her shoulder towards her neck, kissing her just below her ear.

“Luke, it’s going to be fun,” she mumbled as she rested her hand as she ran her fingers through his hair slowly.

“But you know what could be more fun,” he trailed off as he took a hold of her chin, turning her face towards him. He raised his eyebrows as he met her gaze. She squinted slightly as her lips curled upward. He leaned towards her, kissing her sensually and slowly. She spun around to face her body towards him, she rested her hands on the base of his neck.

Pulling away reluctantly, “We’re going to go and you’re going to enjoy every moment of it,” she explained before she pressed her lips against his for a brief second, “And then maybe you’ll get to see what I purchased a few days ago,” she kissed him once more as she pulled away from his grasp.

“What-What- you purchased something?” he asked quietly, his voice cracking. She smirked as she bit her lip. His mouth fell open, “Why can’t I see it now?” he pouted slightly as he walked towards her at the foot of the bed.

“Because we have somewhere to be,” she let out teasingly as she reached her hand towards him, he sighed dramatically as he took a hold of her hand. She spun around and guided him out of the bedroom, his eyes trailing her frame and the way her hips sway as she walks.

“Oh my god,” he muttered as he continued staring hard.

They decided to Uber to the event, they sat in the backseat quietly as the Uber driver played music loudly. Y/N looked over Luke’s frame, the suit looked stunning on his frame. His eyes were a bright contrast against the all black. She reached over towards him and unbuttoned the top button and adjusted the top to show more skin.

He furrowed his eyebrows as the silver necklace was more in view. “For the fans,” she muttered as she shrugged her shoulders. She trailed her finger across his skin briefly before the Uber driver pulled the car to a stop.

He chuckled nervously as he thanked the driver before he climbed out of the car. He walked towards her side of the car as he opened the door for her. He reached his hand out towards her as he cautiously helped her out of the car. She walked forward, careful not to trip on her dress. She took a hold of it as she stepped up onto the curb with Luke beside her.

Jack and his date were waiting by the doors for Luke and Y/N to walk inside. Jack smiled widely once he saw his little brother. “Is that a new suit?” Jack asked as Luke and Y/N walked towards them. Luke smiled shyly. “Looks good. Gonna look great on the red carpet,” he muttered.

Jack guided his date inside as Luke stopped and stood still. “Red carpet?” he asked quietly. Y/N smiled widely as she took a hold of his hand.

“You better smile,” she teased as they walked inside the building to see Jack and his date posing for the cameras. Jack was laughing at something she said.

“We’ll let you know when you two can go,” the man with a clipboard said beside them. Luke nodded as he clenched his jaw. Luke wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her towards him. Luke had started slowly rubbing his hand up and down her side as he stared towards all of the cameras.

“This is nuts,” he whispered as he leaned into her ear. She smiled towards him as the man with the clipboard alerted them that they could walk towards the cameras. “Come on, Baby,” he mumbled, keeping his hand on her lowerback as the pair walked onto the red carpet. The usual social media girl was standing dead center for the photo ops. Which calmed Luke’s nerves a bit.

“We’ll make it fast for you, Luke,” she let out with a chuckle.

“Thank you,” he mumbled as he started smiling widely. He squeezed his hand on her hip as she smiled widely as well.

He shifted his gaze towards Y/N for a second, suddenly his cheeks pinked up as his smile became more genuine. “Amazing, you guys go have fun!” she let out as she poked her head out away from the camera.

“Let’s go, Baby,” he muttered as he kissed her cheek briefly before they continued walking out of the red carpet.

~~~

It had been an hour since they had arrived and Luke was working one of the tables with Curtis, trying to make an impression on the people that were supposed to make donations. Y/N stood at the same casino table, playing black jack, with Jack and his date.

“Alright Lukey Boy, don’t let Y/N win because she’s your girlfriend,” Jack chirped as he looked at the two cards the Curtis handed him. Luke chuckled nervously as he met Y/N’s gaze.

“Don’t be jealous that she’s good at this game and you’re not,” Luke poked back as he looked towards Curits beside him. Y/N smiled as she leaned down to count her cards. She was already at twenty. She lifted her gaze to meet Luke’s gaze. She raised her eyebrows expectedly as she glanced towards the camera beside her.

After another fifteen minutes, Luke was finished with his “shift” on the tables and got to experience the event himself with his beautiful girlfriend beside him. They walked up to the bar top and ordered two sodas because they were still underage. He smiled kindly towards the bartender as he took a hold of the small plastic cups. He delicately handed it towards her.

“You look beautiful,” he mumbled as he scanned her frame. She smiled shyly as she took a small sip of the drink. “You have to wear this more often,” he mumbled as he took a small step closer to her.

“Wait until you see what I have underneath it,” she whispered as started walking back towards the tables and the crowd of people.

Luke stayed still for a moment, watching her walk away as his breath was caught in his throat. His mouth opened up for a moment before he clamped it shut before he started following her towards the crowd of people. She stopped at their designated table, where they were assigned to sit for the dinner that would be served in another twenty minutes. She was in the process of sitting down when Luke immediately went and sat down beside her.

“You can’t say things like that,” he mumbled as he scooted his chair closer to her. She ignored him as she just sipped her drink. She met his gaze watching his cheeks flush red. “You can’t just say that and walk away, not fair,” he muttered as he licked his lips.

“Oh it’s not fair?” she asked teasingly.

“Nope, not fair,” he mumbled as he watched Jack sit down beside him, placing a plastic cup with dark liquid in front of him. Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he stared towards Jack confused.

“You look tense, you have to loosen up,” Jack muttered as he began drinking his own drink. Y/N smirked as she dropped her gaze towards her phone resting in front of her.

“Dude, I can’t drink this here,” he let out as he glanced towards Y/N.

“Nobody is going to care,” Jack said. Luke quickly picked it up and drank nearly the whole thing as he shot Y/N another look. His whole body shook as the alcohol was stronger than he thought. Her lips were still curled up in a smirk. The drink had whiskey in it; an alcohol he usualy avoids. “Damn, you really did need a drink.”

“Yeah,” Luke mumbled as he maintained eye contact with Y/N. She was enjoying every moment of teasing him. “How much longer is this thing going to last?” He asked Jack.

Jack stared towards him suspiciously as his lips slowly curled upward in a smirk, “It just started, what do you mean?” Jack expressed. Luke rolled his eyes as they started making an annoucement that dinner was going to start being served.

“Why? Have somewhere you need to be?” Jack asked as he looked between Luke and Y/N.

Luke simply shook his head as he rested his hand onto her thigh, running his hand slowly up and down the exposed skin. The slit in her dress was hard to ignore. “What’d you guys request?” Jack asked.

~~~

He shoved the door open fast as he dragged her inside, cautiously not to have her trip over her dress. She smiled knowingly as he locked the door behind him. He pushed her body against the door, “You think you are so funny,” he mumbled, his face only a few inches away from hers. He delicately ran his index finger along her exposed skin, tracing the exposed curve of her breasts.

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked into his darkened eyes, “It was a little funny,” she mumbled. His hand continued to caress her skin delicately but urgently. It was a weird sensation that she was convinced could make her undone in that moment.

“I think I get to see what's underneath now, don’t I?” he whispered as his hand slowly caressed the exposed skin of her thigh. Her lips curled upward as she nodded.

He urgently kissed her, devouring her lips with his. His tongue met hers, controlling the fast but sensual pace.

She kicked her heels off as they stumbled backwards together. She pulled away, opening her eyes to see him leaning towards her desperately. “You wait,” she mumbled as she started walking towards the bedroom.

“I’m tired of waiting,” he let out while laughing. She chuckled as she smiled a toothy grin as she stepped into the bedroom.

“I’ll text you when you can come in,” she said as she peeked her head out of the bedroom. He let out a dramatic groan.

She began tugging the zipper of the dress, surprisingly easier to come off than she thought. She kicked the dress away from her feet towards the bathroom, not worried about it wrinkling. She looked into the mirror to see the black lace lingerie set she had purchased a few days ago. It amplified every curve of her body in the most perfect way.

She texted him as she sat down on the bed, leaning back on her hands. Within seconds he pushed open the door, his cheeks flushing red instantly. His mouth fell open as he blinked slowly. “I could faint,” he mumbled as he bit his bottom lip.

She slowly stood up and walked towards him, taking a hold of his hand. “Then you sit there and let me,” she trailed off as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

She slowly climbed onto his lap wrapped her arms around his neck as she urgently kissed him, his hands landed right on her ass as she arched her back.

After a few seconds, she tilted her head back letting him kiss and suck on her neck and chest. He didn’t hesistated as she slowly tugged the suit jacket off of his frame, throwing it to the ground. He took a hold of her thighs as he stood up from the bed, she gasped as she met his gaze.

He tossed her down on the bed, standing at the edge of the bed. He began to unbutton his undershirt as he stared at her frame. He pulled the undershirt away from his body, revealing his toned body as he instantly climbed back on top of her, devouring her lips.

#luke hughes imagines #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes series #nhl imagines #nhl #nhl x reader #hockey #nhl fic #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagines

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renx01 · 8 months ago

Text

Too Sweet

Prompt: Inspired by the Hozier song Pairing: Harry Hart x (Kingsman!)Reader Fandom: Kingsman Tags/Warnings: age gap, mutual pining, angst Word count: 6495

Masterlist

You’d joined Kingsman only five years ago, and over time you’ve become a well-respected agent, code-named Tristan. Merlin, who is your uncle, was the one who had proposed you as a candidate and helped you prepare for the role while you were still in your early twenties. The other candidates had been good, but you were nearly flawless, only taking calculated risks and never letting your emotions rule your decision making. Control over your emotions was something you always excelled in, and it tremendously helped you make strides as an agent during the initial few months and first year. This caused you to rise in rank quite quickly, making you go on more solo missions or accompanying Galahad or Percival whenever they needed assistance. Today, you’re helping your uncle instead, hacking into some cameras and security networks so he’ll be able to tell Lancelot and Galahad where to go next and what they should be looking out for. It’s something you do from time to time, mostly upon Merlin’s request when he finds the mission too complicated to oversee on his own.

‘The main control room should be south from where they are now.’ You pull up the map on the big screen which hangs in front of you and Merlin, pointing out where Galahad and Lancelot should be going next. As he’s relaying the information to the other men, you hack into the mainframe the criminal organisation and start going through the different files. ‘Any updates about the nuclear files?’ Galahad’s voice comes through the speakers and Merlin looks at you. ‘Working on it. Just focus on getting to that room.’ The screen in front of you shows Lancelot’s feed. He’s following Galahad through the many hallways and twists and turns they take, taking down guards whenever they come across them. Their moves are deliberate, quick and efficient. You turn back to your screen and after a few minutes you’re finally able to access the file Galahad had asked for. ‘I’m sending you the file now, Galahad.’ ‘Thanks Tristan.’ He replies. They have finally reached the door to the control room. Lancelot holds his watch against it and it opens. Silently, the two men enter the room. ‘Lancelot, I need you to connect us to the controls.’ Merlin states and the other man follows the order. Your screens fill with the necessary information and you start working on fully disarming and disabling the system. ‘Galahad, please flip the green switch on your right.’ You request. Before he can really do so, a loud bang interrupts him, followed by the sound of shots. ‘Lancelot, you take those men while Galahad follows Tristan’s orders.’ Merlin’s Scottish accent seems thicker momentarily. You’ve noticed it only really happened when he was in more stressful situations; one time when you almost got kidnapped, it was so thick you could barely understand him despite having a mostly Scottish family. Calmly, you instruct Galahad what buttons to press and switches to flip. After a few minutes of him following your lead as you type away at your computer, you’re done. ‘Galahad. Lancelot. The system has fully been disabled and disarmed. Get back to the jet.’ They start running through the building and Merlin glances at you, giving you a small smile before going back to helping them follow the quickest route out of the building.

‘You did well, Tristan.’ Merlin ruffles your hair and you smile at him. ‘Thanks. You didn’t do too badly yourself, old man.’ He laughs and lightly punches your arm. ‘I’m not that old, your mother is 10 years older than I am.’ You snort and teasingly say, ‘And you Merlin, are 12 years older than I am.’ After that comment, a comfortable silence settles between you. There were a few more tasks you had to complete before tomorrow, so you decided you would spend the evening and night at the mansion. About an hour after the mission finished, Merlin leaves, leaving you alone in front of the large screen filled with documents. Quietly, you continue working for a few more hours before you call it a night. You’d finished your side of the report, only needing Galahad and Lancelot for the final few details. You’ll probably ask them about those during the debrief tomorrow afternoon.

Once you’ve locked your computer and turned off all the lights, you silently walk to the kitchen, where you start making a pot of tea. The room is dark, as you only turned on the light above the stove. A sound from behind you catches your attention. Looking back, you see that your two colleagues have just returned from their mission. ‘Evening gentlemen.’ You greet them. ‘Tristan, good evening.’ Galahad walks up and stands next to you, just as the water starts boiling. ‘Would you like a cup?’ Your hands continue moving, putting in the tea egg to let the leaves steep. He hums in response as he grabs two more cups. ‘Chamomile?’ Galahad quietly asks and you nod. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you while Lancelot leaves the room momentarily to put some of their things away. Once the tea has sufficiently gained colour and flavour, you pour some into the three cups. Grabbing your own, you sit down next to the chair you’d draped your suit jacket over. Harry sits down across from you and puts down Lancelot’s cup next to him. You both quietly drink your tea, your eyes scanning that day’s paper. When you look up, you notice his eyes are trained on you, making you a bit nervous. Before you can say anything, though, Lancelot walks back in and starts talking about their flight back to England and the newest Royal scandal of the week. The other man’s attention shifts to his colleague who is talking excitedly. Your eyes scan Galahad’s features. He is handsome, smart, quick-witted, and a gentleman. A combination which has led you to, over time, develop a bit of a crush on your colleague.

‘Tristan, what do you think?’

You turn your head to face the other man. ‘I think the situation escalated unnecessarily, had the royal family handled it properly, this would’ve never become public.’ He smiles and Galahad interjects. ‘I agree with Tristan, this situation could have easily been avoided.’ The two men continue talking and you sip your tea. ‘Gentlemen, I’m heading off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at the debrief.’ You stand up and put your cup into the dishwasher. It was already 11 o’clock. ‘Tristan,’ Galahad stands up, ‘if you’ll allow me, I’ll walk you back to your room.’ Smiling, you nod. ‘Of course Galahad; thank you.’ He leaves the room with you and as you walk, he leans sideways in your direction and whispers. ‘Thanks Tristan. I was a bit tired of Lancelot talking. He’s been going without pause from the moment we got on the jet.’ It didn’t surprise you in the least. ‘Of course Galahad. Lancelot tends to talk quite a lot; I suspect his favourite sound may be his own voice.’ He snorts. ‘I suspect you might be correct.’ The hallways are silent except for your quiet footsteps and conversation. The distance between the two of you seems to become smaller as you continue walking and talking; until you stop in front of your door. ‘Galahad, thank you for accompanying me.’ You turn to face him and smile. ‘Of course Tristan, it was my pleasure.’ His voice was quiet. The silence between you is tense and Harry seems to slowly be leaning closer as he holds your eye contact. Moments, which feel like hours pass, but he doesn’t make a move. Your noses almost touch when he seems to snap out of a sort of trance and clears his throat, pulling back quickly. ‘Ah Tristan, I should get going. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ As he walks away, you stand frozen in your doorway.

The following morning you watch the sunrise outside, a hot cup of coffee in your hand. It seems no one else is up yet. You’ve left your suit jacket in your room and have your sleeves rolled up, the crisp air touching your form. Behind you, you hear your dog walking and sniffing around. ‘Ares.’ The Doberman walks to your side. ‘Want to go for a walk?’ He barks and you pet him behind his ears. ‘Let’s go.’ You smile and he runs into the field in front of you, with you following calmly. Upon your return, you’re greeted by Merlin, who looks to have woken up not too long ago. ‘Morning Tristan.’ Ares excitedly runs up to the Scot. ‘Morning to you too Ares.’ He puts down his coffee and pets the dog with both his hands. ‘You’ve got an awful lot of energy today, haven’t you?’ ‘He really does, he’s been running around for over an hour already.’ You laugh. ‘I’ll bring Albion to play with him later today.’ He takes a sip of his coffee. ‘I’ll be back momentarily, can you watch Ares for a second?’ He nods. ‘Thanks.’ you say and smile at him. You walk into the kitchen through the open doors. Putting down your cup, you start brewing another cup of coffee. The kitchen is still quiet, but you know that more of the agents that have stayed the night will probably start walking in soon, though it probably won’t be many. Lancelot and Galahad you knew for sure, others you weren’t too certain about. ‘Morning Lancelot.’ You say as you hear the man walk in. ‘Agent Tristan.’ He greets. ‘Want some coffee?’ ‘Yes please.’ The smell of another fresh coffee fills the air. You smile as you hand him a cup. ‘You feeling alright?’ ‘I will once I finish this.’He groans before the two of you clink your cups. ‘See you at the briefing in an hour.’

You spent that hour with Merlin and Ares, mostly in silence. The Doberman is as happy as can be, with the Scot and you taking turns throwing a ball into the field and having the dog return it. It was nice spending time with your uncle like this. Usually you have to be quite serious around him, as you mostly speak to him here, at Kingsman. Now, you can, even if it’s just for a moment, relax and have the relationship you used to have when you were younger and neither of you were a part of the secret service. ‘Uncle Hamish, we should probably get ready for the briefing.’ You say as Ares runs into the distance. He has his eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the morning sun. ‘Just five more minutes; Galahad will be late anyway, he seemed a bit off yesterday evening when I saw him.’ That last comment piques your interest, but you decide not to pry. The meeting room was still empty when you walked into it with your uncle. A few minutes pass before, you are joined by Lancelot, who is, once again, talking excitedly. While you don’t necessarily have the energy for him, you stay professional and listen with intent. He is still talking your ears off when Galahad finally arrives, about five minutes late. Despite Merlin having made a comment, it is still quite unusual for him to be late.

‘Glad you could join us, Agent Galahad.’ Merlin calls out from the far end of the room as the other man enters. ‘Terribly sorry for my tardiness.’ Harry excuses himself. ‘Morning Galahad.’ Lancelot greets him, instead you just wave at the agent. Everyone sits in their usual spots, with Galahad across from you and Merlin to your left, though he almost immediately stands up, walking in front of the screen which shows the most vital information related to the mission. Most of the information isn’t new to you, as you’d helped your uncle prepare. Whenever Galahad or Lancelot give additional information, which you hadn’t been able to gain before the meeting, you write it down into the report. Your attention is fully focussed on what everyone is saying, that is until you notice that Galahad’s eyes seem to linger on you a bit longer than usual whenever you make a comment. Eventually, his eyes meet yours. He quickly looks away and focuses on Merlin, who is saying something about the risks which may occur in the future. Yesterday’s mission has likely only slowed down the organisation, meaning that you’d still have to find its core and try to eliminate it. Still, all the new information which has been gained is quite useful. Your gaze reverts back to your laptop screen as you continue typing away.

‘Agent Tristan, could you please explain to these gentlemen what you did to fully disarm and disable the system?’ Merlin’s sudden attention to you surprises you, but you stand up confidently and walk to his side. Galahad’s eyes seem to burn into the back of your head as you do so. ‘So how we did it is -’ Everything goes smoothly as you explain the process thoroughly to the other agents. Hopefully, you’ll be able to join them in the field next time, rather than having to sit and watch from the sidelines to assist them from a distance. You aren’t sure that’ll actually happen however, as it really depends on what kind of mission it’ll be and what is needed of you. After a few minutes, you’re able to sit back down. Neither Lancelot, nor Galahad had any questions, which you assume is probably a good sign. There are only a few more things you need to discuss, with most of them only requiring only a little of your input from time to time, so you silently drink some tea as Lancelot and Merlin talk. Galahad is remarkably silent, only asking a few questions or making comments when he deems it necessary. Usually, he’s more talkative and tends to lead the conversation, but today he seems to have chosen to leave that to Lancelot. As your uncle is saying something about the implications of such an organisation having access to nuclear weapons, you feel another foot hit yours. At first, you ignore it; but when it happens again, you look around. It couldn’t be Merlin or Lancelot, leaving Galahad as the only suspect. You quickly look at his face but he acts as if he’s innocent. When you feel a third tap, you let your eyes meet his. The lines around his eyes crinkle mischievously, while the rest of his face doesn’t seem to change. You tap him back, your oxfords hitting the side of his silently. This time, his eyes do not divert to Merlin or Lancelot, and it almost feels as if you’re the only person in this room with him. The feeling is short lived however, with his gaze shifting away when his name is mentioned by one of the other men. Still, his foot remains in place, connecting the two of you. Despite the intimate gesture, his feelings for you remain unclear.

The meeting comes to an end, you and Galahad act as if nothing happened when you stand up. Everyone leaves the room and as he passes you, he slips a small folded note into your hand. You do not get a chance to read it though, as Merlin immediately starts up a conversation with you as you walk the wing of the mansion where the individual kingsman offices are located. ‘Tristan, could you send me the report after lunch?’ You nod. ‘As long as we’re going on a walk with Ares and Albion after, you know he’s missed you lately, and this morning wasn’t enough to make up for that.’ He laughs. ‘Of course.’ Together, you walk into Merlin’s office, where you quickly discuss the last few details before you leave for your own. There, you work on the report for a bit longer, adding the finishing touches before sending it to Merlin. Ares lays in the corner of your office, playing with one of his toys quietly. The folded piece of paper sits next to your keyboard, still not read. Once you’ve finally finished the report, you grab and slowly unfold it. Galahad’s handwriting is neat, but not delicate.

Tristan,

Meet me in the library at 21:00 tonight.

Yours faithfully,

‘I suppose I’ll go read in the library tonight, Ares.’ You whisper before you put the note into your drawer and motion your dog to follow you to the kitchens to have lunch. He walks at your side when you enter, and calmly waits as you brew tea and make lunch. Once it’s ready, you decide to eat it outside, as the weather is quite nice today and Ares will be able to run around before you go for the walk with Merlin. Half an hour passes before you’re joined by your uncle, who has his dog, Albion, with him. She’s a border collie who is usually quite serious and focused, but gets very excited when she gets to play with Ares. The two of them are best friends, so you and Merlin try to have them meet up and go on a long walk at least once a week. This doesn’t always happen though, as duty calls whenever it does, resulting in having to cancel quite frequently, which happened the past few weeks. Today isn't such a day though, and once you both finish your lunch, the four of you start walking your usual round around the grounds. You and Merlin chat away about anything and everything while Ares and Albion run around together and fetch a tennis ball from time to time. It’s calm and you’re enjoying yourself. It’s always quite nice to spend your time like this. All nice things must come to an end though, and after forty-five minutes of walking, you have to return to work. ‘See you later Tristan.’ Merlin says before walking to his office, taking Albion with him. ‘Later.’ You wave before walking in the opposite direction. Galahad hadn’t been there when you returned from your walk, so you assume he’s at the shop to get a few things in order. It’s probably for the better, as you aren’t sure what you would do if you were to cross him in the hallway right now. He’s constantly giving you mixed signals. Yesterday, he seemed to lean in to kiss you before pulling away suddenly. Today, he almost continuously avoided your gaze, yet wanted to stay connected in some way that wasn’t visible to others, and he wrote you a note telling you to meet him later.

‘Fuck.’

You whisper to yourself. You’re falling for him, hard. You have been for a long time. You always told yourself it was merely a crush, but you’re unable to deny it any longer. This revelation isn’t your biggest problem though. Your biggest problem is whether he would even be interested, as he’s constantly giving those mixed signals. Tonight you’d decide whether you’ll ever act upon your feelings or not. You’d never particularly cared for the kingsman code which prohibits any relationships, though it hasn’t been necessary for you to break it either, as you hadn’t been interested in any relationships in the first place. Kingsman always comes first in your life. This means that you’ve never actually taken the time to think of finding a partner or date around. What you are worried about, is that Galahad is someone that always follows the rules and doesn’t even think about bending, let alone breaking, them. This may be an explanation for him being so hot and cold with you. Still, it’s confusing and worries you. ‘Good afternoon agent Tristan, is everything alright?’ Arthur greeting you pulls you out of your thoughts and you realise you’re standing in front of the door which leads into your office, your hand on the doorknob. You have probably been standing there for a couple of minutes now. Quickly you turn the knob and start walking in. ‘Ah yes Arthur, I was just lost in thought. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some paperwork to attend to.’ You smile at him before swiftly closing the door once Ares has entered the room as well.

The evening couldn’t come soon enough. Thinking of whatever Galahad could possibly tell you continued racing through your mind the entire afternoon, meaning that you were quite distracted for the most part. Merlin visited you shortly before dinner to discuss the report and what he altered before sending it off to Arthur. While he clearly noticed that you were distracted, he decided against saying anything about it and left. Shortly thereafter, you decided it’d be a good idea to go for another walk with Ares, as it’s a good way of distancing yourself from the setting in which you usually see Galahad. This time, though, the walk lasts for several hours, with the sun starting to set once you start heading back to HQ. When you arrive back at HQ, it’s nearly nine, so you decide to bring the Doberman to your office before heading to the library. Galahad, or Harry which you rarely ever refer to him as, is already there, waiting for you. He turns to face you and smiles when you enter before greeting you. ‘I’m glad you could make it agent Tristan.’ You nod nervously but try to sound casual. ‘Of course, any time, Galahad.’ His eyes look over your form and you do the same. The tension between the two of you is palpable but you try to ignore it as best as you can. For a moment, nothing happens. The both of you stay still, frozen in place. Suddenly Galahad moves again and walks up to you. In a moment of passion, he grabs your face and kisses you deeply. It’s so intense it feels as if he’s bruising your lips. When you don’t move, he starts pulling back. Quickly, you pull him to you once more and kiss back, one of your hands in his hair and the other pulling his tie. The two of you fight for dominance and he pushes you against one of the bookshelves, his left hand now resting on your hip. Eventually, he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed. For minutes, the two of you stand like this, silently enjoying each other's presence and closeness. ‘Tristan.’ He whispers. ‘Yes Galahad?’ The man sighs and slowly leaves your embrace. ‘Shit.’ You hear him mutter under his breath. ‘Shit shit shit.’ He backs away, as if he’s only just realised what happened. ‘Galahad, what’s going on?’ ‘I cannot do this Tristan.’ His voice sounds almost desperate. ‘Galahad, what do you mean you cannot do this?’ He doesn’t reply and walks away, leaving you alone in the library.

You didn’t see Galahad the rest of that week and you threw yourself into work, only leaving your office to go out with Ares. If you hadn’t had him, you probably wouldn’t have left your office in the first place. That Friday morning, Merlin comes in unannounced and finds you sleeping with your head on your desk. He wakes you and you slowly sit up straight. Your suit jacket is discarded somewhere in a corner and you look a bit of a mess with your hair all dishevelled. ‘Are you sure you’re feeling alright Tristan? You really shouldn’t be overworking yourself.’ Your uncle asks you, he sounds quite worried. ‘I’m fine Merlin, I promise.’ He sighs. ‘You do not look or act as if you’re fine. What’s going on?’ You just shake your head. ‘It’s nothing really, I’ve just had to catch up on some work. Please don’t fret it.’ ‘We both know that’s a lie, Tristan. You’re always ahead of everyone when it comes to paperwork.’ He stops for a moment. ‘Look, both you and Galahad have been acting off all week and we can’t have that. I don’t know if there’s anything going on between the two of you, but I want you to fix it, especially if it’s affecting you like this.’ His voice is stern. ‘You should go talk to Galahad then, I’m not the guilty one here.’ You stand up for the first time in what feels like years, your knees and back hurting with every move. ‘I don’t have the energy for all this, go talk to him if you want to know more.’ Silently, you usher him out of your office and shut the door behind him. While you love your uncle, you really couldn’t deal with this right now.

The scotch in the corner of your office had been a little too appealing. That combined with the very limited amount of food you’d had over the past few days, made it very easy for you to become drunk. You sit in your chair feeling very sorry for yourself, as you do in such situations. ‘You know Ares, I’ll go talk to that asshole. He kisses me like that and then he avoids me all week. I suppose that’s not very gentlemanly of him.’ Standing up, you feel dizzy and you have to grab a hold of your desk to keep standing. The world seems to be turning and Ares looks to have multiple heads. ‘Fuck.’ You hadn’t realised how badly the scotch had affected you. Still, that didn’t stop you, and you stumble through your office door. The hallway is empty when you enter it, as is usual at this time of night in HQ. Galahad’s office is only a few doors down and you try to walk there as normally as you can. Taking a deep breath, you knock multiple times. When there’s no immediate answer, you knock again, but more loudly. ‘Galahad, I know you’re in there.’ Your voice is loud enough for him to hear on the other side of the door, but not loud enough to wake any of the other kingsmen. Though they probably wouldn’t wake up unless you screamed loudly enough for it to reach the other side of the estate. Moments pass, but the door is eventually opened by the agent. ‘Tristan.’ He greets you solemnly. ‘I need to talk to you, you pretentious asshole.’ The words fall out of your mouth and there is no stopping them. ‘You are no gentleman. You invite someone to talk to them alone after MONTHS, LITERAL MONTHS, of looking at each other longingly and flirting, then kiss them in the way you did and JUST WALK AWAY LIKE THAT?????’ He finally looks up at you and realises the state that you’re in. ‘WHAT IN THE HELLS IS WRONG WITH YOU INCOMPETENT PRICK????’ You jab your finger into his chest. ‘Tristan, you are in no state to discuss this, please go to bed.’ He grabs your hand. ‘YES I AM, I AM A GROWN ADULT THAT CAN MAKE THEIR OWN DECISIONS. YOU ARE NOT MY MOTHER.’ ‘Yes you are, but you’re currently incapable of making any good decisions. So, please quiet down before you wake up Mr. Pickle.’ Before you’re able to respond, he grabs you and surprisingly easily throws you over his shoulder. ‘Now, I’ll be escorting you to bed, as you don’t seem to be capable of doing that yourself.’ He completely ignores your protests, which continue for about five minutes before you realise there’s nothing you can do about this situation. He only puts you down when you’re in front of your bedroom door, as he needs you to open it. ‘I’m going to put you down, but please stay quiet. I don’t want you to wake everyone up.’ You nod and mutter to yourself as he puts you down. ‘Still an asshole though.’ He laughs to himself. When you finally have both your feet on the ground again, you’re stable momentarily before you start falling over again. Galahad notices and steadies you by grabbing your shoulders. ‘Careful now, sweetness.’ His lips touch the shell of your ear and you slowly feel yourself going red. You ignore it though, steadying yourself with his help before walking to your door and unlocking it. When you try to open it you almost fall into your own room and so Harry catches you, before the world around you slowly goes dark.

The following morning you wake up in your own bed, not remembering how you got there in the first place. Ares sits next to your bed, looking up at you as you wake. ‘Morning, my boy.’ Your voice sounds more like a groan than anything else. He nudges your arm and softly barks when you eventually sit up. The light hurts your eyes as you look around, so you close your eyes and lay back down. Once you finally open them again, you notice that there’s a glass of water and a pack of paracetamol next to your bed. ‘Who put that there?’ You look at Ares and pet him before taking one of the pills followed by a gulp of water. The headache you have is slowly driving you insane, so hopefully this’ll help. Still, it remains unclear who actually put it there after probably finding you in quite the state. Usually, you could easily hold your liquor, but apparently your body had other plans yesterday. You do realise that you’re still in your clothes from the day before. So, you decide to get out of them and put on something more comfortable before calling Merlin. ‘Morning Merlin.’ Your voice is quite hoarse. ‘Ah Tristan, I was wondering when you’d call.’ He sounds quite amused for some unknown reason. ‘What do you mean?’ The Scot laughs. ‘Well, I got a notification earlier this morning that you’d be out of the office today because you’re ill. Thing is, agent Galahad is the one who notified me, which is a bit odd to be honest.’ You groan. ‘Well he’s right about me not feeling well.’ Slowly, you lay back in your bed. Merlin didn’t talk to you for much longer after that and he remained quite vague about what Galahad had told him about the night before. Despite you desperately wanting to know what had happened the night before, you decided that would be a problem for tomorrow before heading back to sleep.

That night, a knock wakes you from your slumber. You almost jump out of your bed at the sound, scaring Ares a bit. ‘One moment please.’ You shout at the person behind the door before calming your dog. ‘I should take you out for a walk in a few, shouldn’t I? I’m so sorry Ares.’ After whispering that, you stand up and walk to your door. Opening it slowly, you reveal Merlin’s form. ‘Good evening Tristan.’ He smiles. ‘Thought I’d bring you some dinner.’ The tray he’s holding has a plate with a baked potato, some carrots and broccoli, and some beef, accompanied by a large glass of water and a cup of your favourite tea. He walks in once you’ve further opened your door, putting the tray on the small table that stands in the corner of your room. ‘Do sit down.’ His voice is soft. You do so silently, Ares laying down next to you. ‘Thank you.’ Your voice is soft and you start eating your first meal of the day. Merlin sits down across from you. ‘I do hope this was a one time thing, Tristan.’ He sighs and takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand. ‘It won’t happen again, sir.’ Your voice can barely be heard from across the table. ‘Look, you’ve been doing flawlessly so far, so getting drunk and insulting go Galahad isn’t something that’ll affect you or your career in any way. It can, however, have an effect on how well you’re able to work with him in the foreseeable future.’ Your eyes don’t meet his. ‘Now that I’ve scolded you for getting drunk and acting in the way you did, I would like to know why. Harry hasn’t wanted to tell me anything and I’m against just checking your glasses if I can ask you.’ Your plate is only half finished but you’re already full and you put down your cutlery. ‘I’m not sure you want to know.’ Leaning back, you make yourself more comfortable in your chair. ‘Galahad has really said nothing?’ He shakes his head. ‘Well then, I suppose I’ll tell you what’s going on; under the condition that this will strictly stay between the two of us. Not even Galahad can know.’ ‘Why are you being so secretive about this?’ He enquires. ‘You’ll understand once you hear the full story. Now do you promise?’ You hold out your hand with your pinky ready for him to intertwine with. And he does. ‘I promise.’ A smile creeps onto your face. This is something you’d always done with him when it comes to promises, starting when you were just a little kid. ‘So, as you may have noticed the past few weeks, there’s been some tension between me and Galahad, or Harry.’ You start. ‘But this has been an underlying issue for years now -‘

That night Merlin listened as you talked about how the situation between you and Galahad had unfolded over the past few years and more in detail about the past week or two. Understandably, it was quite a bit for him to take in, and at first he wasn’t certain how to feel or respond. If you hadn’t been who you are to him, he would’ve been fine with it. But with the familial ties you have, and the fact that he and Galahad are best friends, made him hesitate. Yet, he promises to keep quiet and have you and the other man resolve it by yourselves. He would, however, urge his friend to do so if the issue isn’t resolved within a week, meaning that you’ll have to hurry up when it comes to talking things out. He did make clear that he isn’t against you having a relationship with the older man, his tone may have even been slightly supportive, which was somewhat unexpected.

The next time you finally see Harry it’s Sunday. Exactly three days since you’d last seen him and had had the drunken encounter. There you stood, in front of his apartment, your heart pounding in your throat. He’d been at the shop the past few days while you were at the mansion. Merlin was quite convinced that Galahad was, in fact, avoiding you, so he’d suggested you go visit him that evening. Well, suggested was quite a loose term in this case. It was more that Merlin just dropped you off here and told you to ‘Go ahead and talk it out’. Obviously, this was his way of forcing you to do so, as he is quite sick of having the two of you avoiding each other.

Finally, you ring the doorbell and you stand there waiting nervously for Galahad to answer. He does after a few minutes and the confusion is quite evident on his face. When he doesn’t say anything, you start talking. ‘Sorry to bother you Galahad, but Merlin’s dropped me off so we can talk things out.’ You smile sheepishly and he sighs before letting you in. You have never been inside his home before, so you look around curiously as he leads you into his kitchen. He was wearing his usual attire, save for the glasses. Apparently, he had been cooking dinner when you rang his doorbell. As you look around the room, not moving, he clears his throat. ‘Would you like to join me for dinner Tristan?’ The question is logical, yet you aren’t certain whether he actually wants you to join or if he’s asking it out of obligation. You’re hoping it’s the former rather than the latter. ‘If you don’t mind. Otherwise we can talk and then I’ll leave, I don’t wish to intrude Galahad.’ He motions you to sit down. ‘I would love for you to join me, I’m almost finished cooking dinner anyway, so do feel free to have a seat.’ When you do so, he turns around to face the stove once again before finishing dinner. It is a simple yet delicious meal, and you appreciate the gesture of him inviting you to join him. It is mostly spent in silence, save for a few comments appreciating his skill, or talking about the goings on at the shop and HQ.

After dinner, Harry offers you a cup of tea before pouring one for himself and sitting down across from you. It is silent for a few minutes before he finally speaks again. ‘I would like to apologise.’ His voice is soft. ‘I should’ve handled this situation differently and not have run away in the way I did.’ As he says this, his eyes divert. ‘It is just that I was, and still am, quite uncertain of how to go about this. I do not wish to hurt you, but in my attempt to do so I did the opposite of what I had intended. I thought you were too pure, too kind. You’re too sweet, too sweet for a bitter man like me. Yet here I am, madly in love with you and confessing my feelings.’ When he finishes talking he looks you in the eye once more. There’s emotion in them, seemingly a mix of sadness and regret. ‘Galahad, I don’t know what to say.’ You pause. ‘I understand why you may have hesitated to approach me in the way you did, however, I am quite confused as to why you ran away so suddenly. You are the one that made the initial move and I never approached you because you were likely to have reservations about breaking kingsman code, yet you gave me hope by inviting me to the library to talk. And for a moment, when you kissed me, I thought we could be together, even if it was just for a moment.’ Slowly, you stand up from your chair. Putting down your cup of tea in the process. ‘Then you went ahead and ripped my heart out by walking away like that. As if I mean nothing to you, as if you weren’t the one that made the first move.’ You raise your voice a bit, but try to stay calm. Following your example, he stands up as well and starts walking towards you. ‘I truly am sorry but it is up to you whether or not you forgive me.’ He looks down into your eyes. ‘What will happen if I forgive you, Harry?’ The two of you are almost touching each other, only a few centimetres between your faces. ‘I shall take you on a date and be your partner. That is, if you’ll have me.’ Rather than answering him with words, you pull his tie and kiss him passionately.

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daydreaming-in-letters · 5 months ago

Text

Feast

07/25/2024

Pairing: Vampire!Hozier x reader

Word Count: 7,286

Warnings: vampire au, language, alcohol, blood, blood sucking, thoughts about unaliving oneself, fingering, light choking, oral (f receiving), penetration (also the reader is female and has hair covering their neck)

Summary: You had heard rumours about the man living in the old mansion down Hollows Lane. Gruesome ones. Enticing ones. Little did you know they were all true.

A/N: I blame hoztwt and my undying vampire kink for this.

Picture found on Pinterest

If you enjoy my story, liking is great, but leaving a comment or reblogging is the stuff that keeps me going. No permission is given to copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

There were rumours about the man living down Hollows Lane. Gruesome ones. The first time you had heard them, you had laughed out loud. A simple prank, you had thought, gone by the end of the month. But they just did not stop.

There were also other rumours. Enticing ones. The man was a seducer, they said, a master of his art, and he knew how to have a good time. You had heard women gushing about his talent, about how they had never been satisfied like that before. It was almost too good to be true. Especially since all he wanted in return was a tasty meal.

A small price to pay if the rumours about his unearthly qualities were true. And as soon as the thought had manifested in your mind, your ears picked up the deep roll of thunder in the distance. A warning, maybe. Probably not. Still it was enough to make you trip and stumble a few steps forward. With a deep breath you steadied yourself, pressing the basket of food you carried to your chest. Just one more turn, one more road to walk down. You could already make out the roof of the grand mansion at the far end. There was a whisper, carried on the breeze, as if it was calling you, a ridiculous thought, you chided yourself, but still your feet had picked up their pace again, the determined clicking of your heels on the pavement the only noise in the lamplit street.

Finally you reached the iron gate and its signature creak brought back memories from the first time you had walked up to his doorstep. You had been so nervous, almost dying inside from anticipation and anxiety alike.

You had no idea how this was supposed to work. All you had was some kind of code word you were expected to say to him.

The large door knocker felt heavy and ice cold as you lifted it and brought it down three times. For a long while, almost an eternity, nothing happened, and you were about to turn around and leave when finally the dark wood in front of you moved. And there he was. He was even more beautiful than the women had described and you doubted there were words in any language to do the looks of this man justice.

“Can I help you?”

He just stood there, waiting, glancing down at you as he towered in the doorway, but that was all it took to stun you into complete silence. Your mouth felt utterly dry, your tongue too heavy to move even if the code was short and easy to remember.

��Are you quite well?”

At least you managed to nod and that seemed to please him somehow.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you blurted out, your brain happy to start with something simple.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

He held out his hand to you and you took it without hesitation. It was soft and warm and his touch almost had you miss out on the moment when he drew in a sharp breath, his upper lip quivering strangely, but it was gone as fast as it had appeared and soon you doubted whether it had been real or just a product of your shell-shocked brain.

“Do you want to come in?”

“Yes! I mean, no. I—” One eyebrow shooting up, he observed you carefully as you stumbled across your own words. “I’m sorry. I am so nervous and I have no idea how this works.”

“I can see that,” he chuckled. “But there is no need to be nervous. Just tell me the words and you’ll be fine.”

His green eyes were so calming as they seemed to stare right into your soul. It should have worried you, should it not, that he seemed to be able to glance at the deepest, most well-hidden parts of you so easily, but instead you felt yourself relax under his gaze.

“Carpe noctem,” you finally managed to pipe up.

“Good girl.”

His voice was low and raspy and you felt your walls tighten around agonising nothingness upon his words. He smirked, knowing full well what he was doing to you already and as much of a warning signal this should have been, it turned you on beyond reason.

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You shook your head. “And the rest of this will be just as easy, I promise. All you need to do is be back here on Saturday, exact same time. Dress to your liking, I want you to feel as comfortable as possible. And bring all the ingredients to your favourite meal.”

You nodded mechanically.

“Are you sure you got it?”

“Got it.”

Gosh, why were you like this? Why could you not just be chill about this? You were embarrassing yourself in front of a man who would supposedly shag the brains out of you this Saturday if one could trust the rumours in this town for once. He on the other hand seemed completely unfazed, maybe even enjoying your flustered state, telling from the satisfied smile on his face.

“Okay, see you on Saturday, then,” you were quick to end this torment, even waving stupidly at him as if you had not already done enough to traumatise yourself. But he was just as quick as he caught your wrist mid-air, a movement too fast for your eyes to catch up and he did not even allow you a second to blink before you found yourself pressed up against his body, one arm slung around the small of your back to keep you in place.

“Goodbye, angel,” he whispered, his breath mingling with yours in the tiny space that was left between your mouths, a space he was keen to erase completely as he leaned in. His kiss was featherlight, making you doubt once more whether this was actually happening or if his lips on yours were just another product of your delusional mind. All you knew was that it made your knees weak and you were very thankful that he was still tightly holding you.

Even more so as a sharp sting shook you from your hazy state. Your lip. And the distinctive metal taste of blood.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed in irritation, two fingers finding your lip and as you pulled them away, the dark red liquid was shimmering in the eerie light of the evening.

“Just a little appetiser.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him off, but once again you found yourself rendered speechless by this man. And he knew how to use your petrified state as a strong hand wrapped around yours, holding the fingers laced with blood in place, and then his mouth opened to take them in, licking them clean as he stared right into your eyes from underneath those impossibly long lashes.

“Can’t wait for Saturday to come.”

You did not know how often you had gone over this scene in your head these past days. It made you shiver, every time, but even more than that, it made you want him, to a point that you started to question your sanity because you knew you would never find peace again if you did not have him. Just once.

And so you had done exactly as he had told you. You had come back, Saturday, same time, wearing your favourite dress and heels, both red like your lipstick. The outfit was not really comfortable as he had suggested, but no other item of clothing in your wardrobe managed to make you feel yourself as much as this. And god knew you could use as much confidence as you were able to muster.

In your hand you carried a basket full of ingredients for your meal, no matter how odd his request still seemed to you. Why would anyone see a self-made meal as a fitting price for…well…for what he was about to give you in return? Living in a home like that, he surely was wealthy enough to afford a cook if he did not want to prepare his own meals. Would that not be much easier and less risky than having to eat a surprise dish from someone who did not know half the time what they were doing? Maybe he had some weird food kink or it got him off to watch other people work for him.

Whatever it was, he left you no time to think about the matter further as the door suddenly swung open. Your hand was still hovering awkwardly mid-air since you had just been reaching for the knocker. And it stayed there for a moment longer, your nervous system sent into overdrive as you took him in.

He was even more radiant in his gloom tonight, if that made any sense at all, but there were no better words to describe the pull he had on you. He was dressed in all black, jeans, denim jacket and shirt, which conveniently was not buttoned up to the collar, thus allowing a fine view of his fluffy chest. Different to your first meeting, he had decided to pull half of his hair back in a ponytail, allowing the rest of his curls to fall freely around his shoulders. He might have trimmed his beard a little as well, but you could not tell for sure, the memory of your last encounter still a bit blurry around the edges.

But all that seemed secondary when he fished your hand out of its weird position and brought it to his lips for a gallant kiss.

“You’re back.” He was beaming, his eyes so full of joy that you almost believed he had doubted you would return. “Come in.”

He still held your hand, making a welcoming gesture with the other, waiting patiently for you to step inside. Another thunder rumbled through the night, louder this time, and you hurried to cross the doorstep. With a heavy thud, the door of the old mansion fell shut behind you, causing a violent shiver to run down your spine. And you could not help but feel like red riding hood in your dress, who had just entered the wolf’s den, fully knowing he would devour her.

“Welcome to my home.”

And what a home it was. Dark wood and old carpets dominated the place, staircases wound their way upwards elegantly, leading to even more rooms that seemed wasted on one inhabitant alone. Oil paintings decorated the walls, portraits as well as landscape scenes of places far and near, and here and there antiques caught the eye, collector’s pieces, possibly, or family memorabilia, passed down from generation to generation. And as if that had not been enough to remind you of those old gothic movies, the whole house seemed to be covered in a sheen of gloomy, flickering light, as if it was solely lit by candles. But of course that was ridiculous, nobody sane would rely on candles today instead of electricity. It must be some of those ultra-realistic LED candles that sat on the chandeliers and candelabras you passed by on your way as he lead you deeper into his lair.

To your great relief his kitchen was up to modern standards, at least far more modern than the rest of the house seemed to be and you thanked the heavens for that. Even the thought of having to cook in a kettle over an open fire doubled your nervousness in an instant.

You did not speak much as you went to work, but you knew you had his full attention. You could feel his eyes on you, observing your every move, following you around as you tried to concentrate so you would not mess up dinner. An impossible task, it seemed, but what could you do? Sending him away was rude and out of the question. This was his home, you had come here of your own free will, knowing full well the terms of this deal, and if you wanted your needs satisfied, you would satisfy his, even it meant to have your every move studied.

“Wine?”

You almost jumped out of your skin. He was so close, his voice coming from right beside your ear. Accompanying his words, he pushed a glass of red wine into your periphery. You hummed in affirmation as you took the drink from his hand. Eagerly you set it to your lips, gulping down a swig and then another as you found it did nothing to end the sudden drought in your throat. And yet you found yourself leaning back against him the moment his hands found you. One was careful to brush away the hair from your shoulder, while the other tenderly glided up and down your arm. You felt his chest move as he inhaled deeply, bringing you even closer, letting the deep vibration of his satisfied hum take hold of you too.

“Mouthwatering,” he concluded, and he was already pulling away, the last you felt of him the brush of his fingertips against your neck.

He must have lied to you, a white lie, but totally unnecessary as he did not seem to intend in the least to eat the meal you had prepared for the both of you. He sat across from you at a table that felt uncomfortably large at a dinner for two, twisting a glass of wine in his hand. Yet he was neither drinking nor touching the food on his plate.

“Are you not hungry?” you inquired, already unable to hide the miffed undertone in your voice.

“I am,” he stated plainly as if your question had been obsolete, as if in fact your question was the confusing bit of this conversation and not his totally antithetic behaviour.

“Is the food not to your liking then?” you refused to let him get away with it this easily. And as you waited for his answer, your fork dashed down to impale an innocent piece of vegetable.

“It looks delicious.”

He sported a smile, totally unfazed by the message of the little stunt you had pulled. If this man intended to seduce you by giving you the full boyfriend experience, even the aggravating and irritating parts, he would be in for a surprise tonight.

“Then why don’t you eat?”

“I will.” He had just finished his statement when lightning stroke, bathing the room in its cold, white light and for a second your heart stopped in your chest. It was only an instant, but the picture of him had been distorted completely, his mouth wide open, a pair of razor-sharp fangs glistening in the eerie light.

You did not dare to blink, and still you must have, as only a moment later, everything was back to normal, he even continued speaking as if nothing had ever happened.

“All in due time, angel.”

Angel. He had called you that before. You had no idea what about you exactly made him think this was a fitting nickname for you. You certainly did not think of yourself as a being of light, and no one else before him ever had. Not that this was a bad thing, on the contrary. But what bothered you about it was the fact that he had already chosen a term of endearment for you, while you did not even know his name.

“Will you at least tell me your name?”

Your voice sounded awfully strange to your own ears, a mixture of pouting and whining. It never sounded like that, not even in your lowest moments. And there had been quite a few of those.

“You can call me Andrew.”

“Andrew,” you repeated, letting his name roll over your tongue as if you were testing the sound, testing what it felt like to form the name with your mouth. It was not intentionally done, but when you looked up from your plate, you found his eyes already glued to you, and the hunger reflecting in those deep green orbs made you shiver in anticipation.

An anticipation you felt now more than ever, and it was threatening to drive you to insanity as you casually flicked through his record collection after dinner, trying very hard not to let your nerves get the best of you. You had moved to the living room now, or was it his music room? You had no idea, but the piano and the record collection let you assume as much.

“This one.”

You pulled the LP from the shelf and handed it to him. Andrew was already waiting by the record player, taking it from you.

“Great choice,” he commented. "Unbelievably talented musician, and an exceptional woman. You would have loved her.”

“You say that as if you knew her personally.”

“I did,” he stated as he found your gaze, and not for a second did you doubt that he was telling the absolute truth, however impossible it seemed.

“How?”

You watched him walk over to you, and you both knew that he would not answer your question. He did not need to. But instead of taking the last way out and run, you took the hand that was already waiting for you and nothing you had done in your life before had ever felt this right.

There was just one question left to ask, you wanted to blurt it out and get it off your chest after it had pestered you for days, but you waited until you had both sat down on the chaise longue by the window.

“So, ehm, how is this gonna go?” You were still holding his hand, your fingers playing with his as you spoke. “Do you want me to tell you what I like?”

“No.” His voice was like velvet. “There is no need to tell me. I will know.”

“Know how?”

He slowly detangled his fingers from yours, and when his eyes found yours again, something about them had changed.

“I can sense it, your desire.” His words had distracted you, allowing his hand to move unseen. It found you, found the sensitive spot of bare skin right above your knee. He did not even have to look and had found his aim still, making you suck in a sharp breath of air as his warmth seeped into your skin, gliding higher and higher up your thigh until his hand had vanished underneath the hem of your dress completely. “I can sense what brings you pleasure.”

Your eyes must have fallen closed under his gentle caress, and yet the touch of his lips did not startle you as they found the outline of your jaw. He moved slowly, placing featherlight kiss after kiss along the path to your ear.

This was the moment. It had come at last. Time to give him his part of the bargain. And so you brushed your hair aside, craning your neck to allow him full access.

“Not yet, angel,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, “not yet.”

Instead of the teeth you had awaited, his palm settled on the most delicate spot you had offered him. He placed it right above your pulse, claiming what was his to take whenever he desired. He could probably feel it, feel the blood rush through you, and the thought was enough to coax a soft sigh from your throat.

But your pulse against his fingertips was not the only thing he could sense. Above it all he heard it, loud and clear, the thunderous drum behind your ribs, as if your heart was waiting for the right moment to break free. That would not be necessary. There were other ways to free you.

You moaned, a sound that warmed his icy heart, and when he let his hand glide up your thigh, your legs fell open for him. He blindly followed the moist heat, his eyes never leaving your beautiful face, watching as you slowly let go. Soon you would be lost to the world, your world, and would become part of his instead. He was just about to tear the last barrier, fisting the exquisite fabric, he gave it a harsh tug and there was nothing left between you and him any more.

You were so soft, softer as the finest silk, and the moan that fell from your lips when his fingers dove in between your silky lips to spread the slick that awaited him was so sinful it almost swayed him to allow himself a little taste of you. But he knew better than that. The wait would only heighten his enjoyment. He would not let his ravenous thirst ruin that for him.

Your head sank back as he slowly slipped inside of you, exposing even more of your neck as another sinful sound broke from your lips. This was impossible, he needed to do something, to silence you for a while until he had gathered enough strength to withstand the urge to sink his teeth into you and suck you dry. And so he pushed his thumb past your lips until he felt your tongue press against it, sucking it in deeper.

Soon he had found the right rhythm, pumping in and out of you, crooking his fingers every now and then to brush along that sensitive spot inside of you. He loved how the stimulation made your breath hitch in your throat, how your eyelids fluttered in that tiny moment of pure pleasure. It drove him wild, to play you like that, and for a second he forgot himself, his thumb gliding out of your mouth to squeeze that frail neck of yours.

He let go immediately when he heard your heart skip a beat, it had startled him, but your whine came instantly, eyes flying open to find his, begging him silently to do it again. And who was he to deny you your pleasure? So he squeezed again, lightly at first, then harder until your hand grabbed the collar of his jacket, your back arching as you pulled yourself closer to him.

You were close, so close, and he wondered…Tilting your head back, he dove into the crook of your neck, his tongue darting out to lick along the prominent vein. He could taste your pulse against his tongue, taste the sweetness of his triumph as he felt your walls clenching down on his fingers. Just one more step, one more ace up his sleeve to drive you over the edge. He knew you could feel it, feel the slight sting as his fangs brushed along your neck, teasing the skin they would soon break, a promise so ardent it left you no choice but to come with a desperate shout.

He held you as you trembled and shook, riding out your high against his fingers. You were enchanting in your rapture and it was in this very moment that he vowed to give you everything you wanted, he would cater to your wants and needs until you felt you could take no more.

He had never understood those who got high on striking fear into the hearts of their blood donors. Fear only staled the taste, while satisfaction heightened it. All those hormones, serotonin, oxytocin, prolactin, dopamine, adrenaline, mixing to form the most delicious concoction.

But there was something more to it. The truth was, he liked giving something back. It made him feel less guilty about what he had to do to survive. He had not really chosen this life, well, he had, but he had been young and in love and full of hope that sharing eternity with her, the one who had turned him, would be worth it. It had not even lasted a decade before she had tired of him. Apparently commitment was not only difficult for beings with a limited lifespan.

But with her gone, everything had seemed pointless in the beginning. All the things he had given up to share this life with her, he missed them terribly. And he loathed the killing, the never ending thirst. He had thought about ending it, numerous times, but he had always found more reason to hold on. And with a few alterations of the rules, he had also found a way to make it work.

He did not kill anymore. There really was no need to. Except for the fact that there were no witnesses if he did. Still, it was possible to survive on smaller portions of blood. He needed to feed more often then, which in turn increased the risk of getting caught. And so he had come up with this transactional system over time.

It was as easy as it was effective: he gave them what they wanted, and in return he could feast. Before he let them go, he made sure to erase certain memories of the shared time, and since he was good at his side of the transaction, they came back freely.

But this right here, you, you were more than a transaction. It had been nothing but a matter of business with the others, sex was just sex, a means to get what he wanted. But for the first time in forever there was something more than hunger he wanted to sate. He wanted you, wanted a taste of what it felt like to be alive, truly alive, not just a slave to the never dying thirst.

It had been a while, and he had been sure he had forgotten by now what it felt like, but with you, so full of life as you writhed with lust in his arms, he remembered everything. And he needed more of it.

You must have sensed it, that he was about to let go, and his punishment came promptly. “Andrew,” you whimpered, as if his absence was pure agony, and he hurried, moving with lightning speed as he disposed of his jacket and made his way down to the floor. He knelt between your legs, pushing up the red fabric to expose his next treat. He was ready to dive in, to devour you, lick you into oblivion, but the gentle touch of your hand as it cupped his cheek held him back.

Your eyes were so soft, full of affection and he felt a sting in his chest as the thought crossed his mind that he did not deserve this. Not at all. He was merely using you and still… His lips pressed to your palm in a tender kiss. The gesture did not even remotely match the endearment your eyes held, but it would have to do, for now.

And then you surprised him again. In the blink of an eye your eyes darkened, your hand moving into his hair, while the other pulled the red fabric even higher. And on your lips, those pillows of sinfully smeared red, formed a smile that would surely bring him to his knees if he was not already kneeling.

Eager for the touch of his lips you pulled him the rest of the way and his mouth found you with a moan, as if you were the most exquisite he had ever tasted. But what did it matter what you were to him? To you, he was the best you had ever had, and he had not promised too much when he had claimed he would know how to please you. He did. Oh god, he did.

Swirling his tongue, he drew small circles around your clit until tiny stars started dancing before your eyes. But he had no intention of ending this so soon, you knew, as his tongue slowly glided all the way down to your wet entrance, teasing you, just to glide back up. He repeated his sweet torture a few times, over and over, until you lost count. And just when you thought he would never stop this torment, his tongue dipped into you. Hooking his arms around your legs he pulled you closer, sinking even deeper into you. You keened, one long, drawn out cry of pure delectation. Both of your hands had vanished into his hair by now, securing him right where he was. Not that you feared he would cease his endeavour, but you needed to feel him, needed to feel that this was real and not just a fever dream, your mind caught in divine delirium.

“Andrew,” you sighed breathlessly and for a second he stilled, dark eyes staring up at you, searching intently for any signs that you wanted him to stop. But you did not. Far from it. And so his eyes dipped back down, his upper lip quivering treacherously before his tongue darted out to lick one long stripe along your crevice. He sighed, eyes falling shut as he inhaled your scent, and you could feel your walls twitch upon the ferocity of his gesture. His forehead creased, nose scrunching as he bared his teeth, the two prominent fangs now unashamedly on display, and like a savage beast he leapt forward, to devour you properly.

“Yes, yes,” you yelped, fingers tightening in his hair and he growled against you. “You’re gonna make me—” But you did not get to finish that sentence before your orgasm washed over you in a mighty wave, drowning out everything but you and him. Completely out of control, your legs wrapped around him, locking him up in the prison of your thighs where he still worked you, fervently, until your body went limp and your legs finally released him.

Your eyes still closed, you could feel him, his kisses on the inside of your thighs, his movement as he left his spot between your legs, slowly crawling up your body while he covered it in more kisses, your hips, your stomach, your cleavage, your neck. You held him there for a while, relishing in the feeling of his mouth right there, right where it belonged, but all too soon for your liking he pulled away.

Your tiny whine made him chuckle, and the most beautiful of smiles still curled his lips as he resurfaced from the crook of your neck.

“Should we take a little break?”

“Never.” Your answer was finite. You did not need a break. In fact it was the last thing you needed. There was something else you needed more than anything, and your fingers had already set out to get you exactly that. Skilfully they worked, opening button after button of his shirt, revealing more of that fuzzy chest. And now it was your turn to taste him, to kiss and lick that milky white skin while you kept on freeing him from his clothes. With a moan he sank against the back rest, one hand vanishing into your hair. He did not do anything, left it all to you, let you take what you wanted in your own sweet time. It was only when you had unfastened his belt and opened his trousers that he helped you shimmy them down his long legs. You had thought he would look more vulnerable once you had completely bared him, but there was nothing vulnerable about him. He was still exuding the same predatory power you had felt the moment you had first laid eyes on him and you knew you were damned for it, but it pulled you to him like a moth to a flame.

“Turn around for me, angel,” he ordered and you did. Kneeling on the chaise longue, back turned to him, you melted into his touch as his fingers found the hidden zipper on your side. He was in no hurry to pull it down, allowing himself to revel in every inch of your skin that came to light, dragging one finger along it, all the way down to your hip, where he gathered the fabric in both of his hands and pulled it above your head.

In an instant his hands were back on you, exploring your body. One arm hooked around his neck, you exposed yourself even further for him, and when he finally cupped your breasts, kneading them tenderly, playing with your hardened buds, you sank back against his chest. Wedged between you, resting right between the cheeks of your behind, you could feel him, all of him. And it was more than apparent that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

Carefully your hand moved through the tiny space between your bodies until you had found him. He hissed as your fingers closed around him, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you moved, slowly, stroking him, worshipping the silky hardness until it was not enough anymore to feel him like that.

You guided him, bending forward until you could feel the gentle press of his head against your entrance. Lazily you dragged him up and down, coating him in the juices he had so expertly coaxed from you.

“Fuck, angel, you are so wet.”

And with that you pushed your hips back, sinking him deep. Your reward was another growl that echoed through the silence. He was quick to pull you up against him, burying his face in your hair. He just held you like that for a while, enjoying your bodies in unity, his hand right above your heart, his breath drifting through your hair and down your neck, covering you in goosebumps.

But then he came to life, his hips moving, slowly at first, then faster, and once he had found his rhythm, you knew you were lost to him. It was perfect, just perfect, the steady rocking of his hips, his hand following the call of your sex, vanishing between your thighs, while his other still held you, trailing up your chest until it had found your throat, gently applying just the right amount of pressure. There was no way you would last long. How could you with the amount of pleasure he coaxed from you, leading you towards your next high as if he had been born for that purpose alone.

His lips found your ear, mouth falling open to lick along the bow it formed. “Come for me, angel. I know you want to.” And while he still whispered the redeeming words, you obeyed him once more.

You would have tumbled and fallen from the might with which your high took hold of you, but he held you tight, mumbling soft words into your ear as you moaned and sighed and mewled like a possessed woman. Softly he pulled you back with him, moving your malleable body around until he had you straddling him, your head resting against his shoulder while his hand drifted soothingly up and down your back.

You had no idea how long the two of you had been sitting like this, your hand on his chest, his heartbeat steady underneath your fingertips, calming you until the fog that had clouded your mind had cleared.

“I always thought vampires did not have a heartbeat,” you rambled as you pushed yourself off of him.

Andrew smiled, like a mushy drunkard, you thought, and for a second the word besotted came to mind. But of course that was just you seeing things that were not there. And he made it so easy for you, this fantasy, even reaching for you to rest his hand against your cheek.

“There is much for you to learn then.”

And when he pulled you in for a kiss, you did not care anymore whether this was a fantasy or reality. Like a drug, his lips drowned it all out, the doubt, the white noise in your head, and made you focus on him alone, his mouth, kissing along your jaw, down your neck, rekindling the flame that had just cooled down to a faint glimmer in a heartbeat.

“Andrew?” He hummed against your pulse, and you had to swallow hard, forcing down a moan, before you could continue. “Will you make me come again?”

He still did not leave his favourite spot, as if you had simply asked him for the time and not to fuck you again. “If that is what you want.”

It was. It was all you wanted, all you could think of right now. And since he made no inclination to give you what you wanted anytime soon, you reached for him. With a gasp you found him, still hard and ready for you. And as you guided him once more to where you needed to feel him, you told him about something else you wanted, something you longed for even more than for your next high.

“I want you to come with me this time.” Your words finally made his mouth still, his head slowly coming back to light as you continued, “I want to feel it, want to feel you, deep inside, pulsing in your rapture.”

A growl rumbled deep in his chest, and there was something about his eyes that made you want to run, something wild, something carnal, something you could taste on his tongue as he pulled you in for another kiss, deep and searing, while he pushed up inside you in one sleek thrust. You pulled away in a gasp, panting heavily as you stared down at him. He had the audacity to smirk, his eyes darkening with every passing second.

“Go on then, angel. Make me come.”

As he spoke, his hands had grabbed your hips. He was guiding you now, the roll of your pelvis against his, just for a while, until he trusted you had overcome your surprise. And when you moved on your own, you could feel his hands wandering up the length of your back. His tenderness was misleading, your suspicion proven right as he dragged them back down harshly, his nails surely leaving trails in their wake. You keened upon the unexpected sensation, your head lulling back. And it seemed this was the moment he had been waiting for all along. Immediately his head dove down to your chest to claim his reward, sucking in your nipple like a starved man.

You felt as if you were falling, tumbling through the air while he kept on ravaging you. In a desperate attempt to save yourself, to grab onto something for dear life, your fingers found his hair again. You pulled and still he did not budge, tormenting your soft flesh until you were betrayed by your own body and he was rewarded with an unhinged twitch around his length.

“It feels so good,” he moaned, and then it seemed you were not the only one who found herself betrayed by her own body when he confessed, “You feel so good.”

And while you were still soaring on his declaration, however insignificant it might have been, he hit that one spot inside of you that made you clench even more violently than before. He moaned again, a low, guttural sound that made you quiver, and when your eyes locked with his, another smirk had found its way onto his lips. Like a bloodhound he had locked onto that spot that made you dizzy with desire, sending those tiny shocks through your body with every hit, they spread and pulsed, crawling along your skin until you could feel the racing beat of your heart underneath the thin layer of skin that covered your neck.

He must have felt it too, one arm wrapping around you to pull you closer, while he used his free hand to brush away every last strand of hair from your shoulder. His gaze found you once more, and now the hunger was more apparent than ever, wafting through the dark pools of green, mixing, until they had lost all colour and you stared into pure darkness.

Giving permission was easier than you had thought, it felt natural to nod, to watch his fangs grow to full size once he knew you did not oppose, to feel him grow inside you at the same time, and just as his teeth broke through your skin, he came, giving you everything he had while he took what he needed in return.

You had feared it would be painful, but all you felt was pure bliss as he feasted on you, as he stilled the craving that he must have felt all night, stilled it on you. And as you gave yourself to him completely, you were carried away by the unexpected momentum of your high. You fell again, spiralling through a tunnel of colours that burst through the darkness around you. You felt light as a feather, but plunged down with the speed of a rock. And yet there was no room for fear. Not even as the colours began to fade and you were left with nothing but darkness.

You were dizzy, almost delirious, fighting so hard to hold on to consciousness, and if you failed, it would be his fault entirely. It was not supposed to end like this, but you had tasted so good, so scrumptious, that your taste had sparked the faint hope he would finally be sated. An illusion, of course. This hunger would never end, but it had made him foolish, had made him take more than he usually did, almost too much. It had taken him everything to pull away, just in time, as it seemed.

A soft sigh came from the place against his chest where your head rested. He was still cradling you, softly rocking you back and forth after he had mumbled his futile apologies. You probably did not even hear them in the state you were in. The state he had put you in.

He cursed himself as he carefully scooped you up into his arms. He usually did not let the donors stay over, never, that rule had not ever been broken before, but he did not care about rules anymore. What he cared about was you, and you needed rest.

Slowly he lowered you onto his bed before he laid down by your side, draping the sheets over you both.

“Sleep, my angel, you deserve to rest.”

You looked so peaceful in your slumber, and he did not even question why his hand reached out for you. Lovingly, he brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, his fingertips gliding across your brow, your cheek. He wanted to touch your lips as well, but he was afraid he would wake you, and so he kept his distance, his fingers still tracing their form, even if he could not feel their silky touch.

You were different. He had felt it all along, but it was only when he had tasted you, rich and warm on his tongue, that he had known for sure what it was that set you apart from all the others. You were what the likes of him called an old soul. One that had lived many lives and carried the wisdom of the centuries. Maybe that was why you had read him so easily. He was sure you had at least felt it from the beginning, what he was, and the fact that you had chosen to seek him out nonetheless still irritated him.

However odd all of this might seem, he was more than aware that finding an old soul—or being found by one—was a rare thing, especially today, when souls hardly lasted for one full lifetime. Maybe he should keep you, just for a while. To take care of you, your old soul and the body that housed it. Just to make sure the world would not lose another precious being like you.

Metamorphosis (Sequel)

***

taglist:

@rosecentury

@lowkeysimpinloki

@fightmespideyboy

#hozier #vampzier #vampire!hozier #vampire!hozier x you #hozier fanfiction #hozier imagine #hozier fanfic #feast #vampire fiction #gothic fiction

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venus-invixen · 2 months ago

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Malfoy had been lounging in shirtsleeves and trousers in the sitting area of the bedroom, by the fireplace, tea and breakfast trays waiting. His hair had been brushed back from his forehead, silver cufflinks in place—the Lord of the Manor once more.

She’d sat down as her cup filled with tea. “So,” she’d said, “you are blackmailing six members of the Wizengamot.”

Malfoy had smirked, and her chest and back had tingled all over, like something important was happening, like sometimes bad things happened and they couldn’t be stopped.

“And once I tell you the details, Mrs. Malfoy,” he’d said, “we are blackmailing six members of the Wizengamot.”

Draco Malfoy, from Bloody, Slutty and Pathetic by WhatMurdah (AO3)

—

Incredible art by Crymsy on Instagram

P.S.—I have a weakness for De Selby pt II coded men.

#dramione #quotes #ao3 fanfic #ao3fic #enemies to lovers #hermione granger #ao3 writer #book recommendations #dramione fanart #fanart #draco malfoy #bloody slutty and pathetic #hozier #unreal unearth #Spotify

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legitalicat · 9 months ago

Text

Too Sweet - Modern!Aegon Targaryen ii x reader

AN: Hello my beautiful people! I hope you enjoy this story. It started as a little love note to the song "Too Sweet" by Hozier because I feel it's very Aegon coded. It then became kind of an amalgamation of a few different stories. My own story and journey with alcoholism and recovery played a big part in this, and as I wrote it parts of my feelings about my older brother, who is in active addiction, came into play. Please know that this is not everyone's story. Recovery from addiction looks different for most everyone. I truly overcame my addiction through building community and connections. I know many people who have to work a program to succeed. I know a person who actually did get a degree after a near lifetime of addiction and now he does a lot of things to help our local community in treating addiction. So really, this is a love letter to people like me and my brother. There is hope and I believe in every one of you.

Link to the TED Talk mentioned.

TW: blatant talks of alcoholism and substance abuse, talks of rehab, family issues, abusive family subtext yet never explicitly stated, gonna say it's kinda angsty, FLUFF

Pairings: Aegon Targaryen ii x reader

Word count: almost 3k

The soft pads of her feet made barely any noise as she walked into his bedroom, carrying a mug in each hand and wearing nothing but his MCR tee-shirt. Technically, they should both be in a deep sleep by now. It was fast approaching four in the morning and neither of them had bothered to close their eyes once. It was all he could to not hold her close in bed and stare at her captivating beauty.

When Aegon first saw her, weeks ago, he was stunned. It was the first time he had gone to the new bar right down the road from his apartment and it just so happened it was karaoke night. He had been tempted to turn around when he heard a horrendous rendition of his favorite Hozier song. But then she took the mic from her drunken friend, and it was as if the heavens parted and the gods showed him the future Mrs. Aegon Targaryen.

“Your coffee, sir,” she said to him as she handed him a mug. “No worries, it’s as black as your soul,” she added with a teasing grin.

“Thank you, beautiful,” he said as he took the mug from her.

She was truly a lesson in divinity for him. Aegon didn’t truly believe she was the most gorgeous woman on the planet. There would be people who would think she was average looks, maybe even less than that, but he didn’t need her to be more beautiful than anyone else. He wanted her exactly as she was. Beautiful like a spring day, teeming with beauty in the most natural of ways. Like one would think of a cherry blossom tree, or their favorite flower. Simple and breathtaking, a reminder of life and truth on a fundamental level.

He knew it the moment they locked eyes in that bar. Her voice shook from nerves as she sang in front of the crowd of strangers. When she looked at him, and he at her, he felt joyful for the first time in years. All of the stupid shit with his family, the years of drowning his sorrows in whiskey and wine and any other drug, none of it mattered.

If he were honest, he couldn’t remember how he got so lucky. He knew he approached her once she was done singing and complimented her. By the end of the night she was nestled beside him in bed, and he’d be damned if he ever let her leave.

“Gods, you’re amazing,” he muttered as he watched her. He knew she was drinking hot chocolate, finding the taste of coffee much too bitter.

“What was that?” she asked him when she pulled the mug away from her face. She had a bit of whipped cream on her upper lip, making his heart feel like it was on the brim of exploding.

He leaned forward, just barely, and lifted his hand to wipe the cream away with his thumb. She gave him a cute little smile when it brushed against her lips, puckering them to press a kiss to his skin. When he pulled his hand away and sucked the cream off, he heard her giggle.

“This is why you’re so sweet. Where most people drink whiskey and coffee, you put sugar in your sugar and drink it until the sun comes up,” he told her. Of course, he was teasing her.

“Because unlike you, Mr. Listen to Sad Music Even When I’m Happy, I like to enjoy things. The good things. The sweet things, like whipped cream and hot chocolate and fruit loops in bed on Saturday mornings. I just think I live a better life than you,” she told him. She was grinning from ear to ear.

If Aegon wasn’t so afraid of rejection, he would tell her how he loved her. He loved that she wanted to eat sweets at all times. He loved that she teased him for listening to My Chemical Romance or Asking Alexandria, calling it all sad music, even when she would listen right alongside him. He loved that she would start crying at the Wonka movie near the end, unashamed about feeling overwhelmed by the backstory.

If he weren’t so afraid she didn’t love him, he would tell her. He knew it had only been a few weeks, that all logic points to love at first sight being nothing more than him just getting turned on by her appearance. But how could he not love her when she sat in bed with him like this after making him a cup of coffee before the sun had even risen? How could one resist the gentleness of her touch when they watched TV together and she insisted on holding his hand? How could he be expected to watch her hyper fixate on a book or a video game, talking about it for hours on end with so much passion she always ended up wound up and breathless?

“You’re too sweet for me,” he told her as he laid back against the head board. He gently pulled her into his side, wanting to have her as close as humanly possible.

His words were met with an amused chuckle. She didn’t fight his hold on her, instead melting into him as though it was where she had always been.

“Tell me about your family,” she said quietly. “I mean, I’ve not been further than ten feet from you for weeks and you haven’t said the first word about them.”

He could feel his jaw clench as she asked him. His family was a complicated and sensitive subject. Even though he wished he never had to speak to her about them, he knew he had to if he had any hopes of them becoming more than just a passion fueled fling.

“Not much to really say. Dad ran Draconic Industries. My older sister, Rhaenyra, is my dad’s daughter with his first wife. He made her next in line to take over the business. Me, my younger siblings, even my mom, we never really mattered much to dear old dad. He died when I was nineteen. I don’t really matter much to any of the rest of them,” he told her, tracing shapes on her bare thigh as he spoke.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she said quickly.

“It is,” he told her without any uncertainty. “Helaena, my younger sister, hasn’t spoken to me in a few years either. I haven’t spoke to my youngest brother Daeron since we were kids. And my brother Aemond…he was the last to hold out hope for me and I burned that to the ground a long time ago. I think it’s been at least a year. My mom completely disowned me about four years ago, when I was around twenty-two, cause I refused to go to rehab again.”

She frowned softly but said nothing. He could only imagine what was going through her head at this point. If roles were reversed, he would probably be planning his exit strategy. All it felt like he told her was a sob story about a poor rich kid who can’t live off mommy and daddy anymore. He felt pathetic.

“What did you go to rehab for?” she asked him.

“Started partying when I was like twelve. Alcoholic by age fourteen. Lead to worse shit, as it does, and I overdosed when I was eighteen on some coke. My mom and grandfather checked me into rehab the following week. Have done two more stints since. Never really stuck, and I haven’t been sober for more than a few days since I was like fifteen.”

He was laying in all our there for her. He wanted her to know so she could decide if she thought he was worth the trouble. He couldn’t blame her if she ran away from him. Why would she stick around? All of his family had washed their hands of him and they were family. She was just someone he met in a bar a few weeks before.

She stayed quiet for a long time. Longer than he would’ve liked. The silence weighed on his heart like an elephant pressing against his chest. He wanted to beg her to say something, anything, just so he knew where her head was at.

Though, he noticed, she didn’t move away from him. She stayed right there, comfortable tucked into his side, occasionally sipping her hot chocolate. His own mug, still filled with coffee, had gone near forgotten in his hand. He was too focused on her.

“You know, the opposite of addiction is connection. Watched a TED Talk one time about it. They found when addicts are treated like people instead of criminals, integrating them into society instead of isolating them, they show less of a struggle with addictions. Allow their basic needs to be met, give them a community, and they thrive,” she said softly after several moments.

She sat up, her warmth leaving him. He felt lonely without her touching him even though she was still well within arm’s reach. She was all he wanted, all he needed.

“I’m not saying I can fix you. I’m not saying the cure to all your problems is me giving my heart to you. I am, however, telling you that I haven’t once seen you drunk or high or anything and we basically haven’t been apart in weeks. If you want to develop healthy connections, create a community, be a person, I am more than willing to be part of it,” she said.

His heart started beating rapidly against his chest. He knew she was right. Since being with her, he hadn’t really felt the need for anything. He had physical cravings, sure, but no mental desire. Aegon didn’t want a moment with her to be a hazy memory that he may be able to recall when he's older.

“Why?” he asked her.

“Because I love you,” she said.

The weeks and months following that night, Aegon really put in the work. Y/N had made it clear to him that she was not going to just give him everything. If he wanted this, it was on him. She was only helping him.

Together, they had found a group therapy program for him. It was ran by a man who had gotten his psychology degree a few years before, but had struggled with addiction for most of his life. That was the first step, a step Aegon felt proud he had taken once he realized he didn’t feel so alone anymore.

The next step, he decided on by himself. The group program was all well and good, but he felt a need to find a deeper explanation into himself. Once a week he found himself sitting in a therapist’s office, talking about everything and nothing all at once. They spoke about his family, his self imposed isolation from them and how that lead to them cutting off, his hopes and dreams for the future.

Through this, he found out about opportunities for volunteer work in the community. He realized he quite liked working at the local secondhand store that helped people in need. He even brought her with him on the Saturdays he worked a shift, turning it into something they enjoyed together.

Even at work, he began reaching out more. If the opposite of addiction was connection, then by the gods he was going to make connections. His coworkers were enough to give him a good laugh. All of them were extremely proud of the progress he made, always encouraging him. He found that little bit alone made it easier for him to be more himself. In the conversations he was able to have with his coworkers, he talked about shows, movies, and music he liked and became friends with a few of them.

It was with this progress, along with the support Y/N provided, that Aegon found himself at the door of his family’s estate. He hadn’t been here in years. He knew all of his younger siblings still lived here. Helaena’s bright yellow VW Beetle sat parked in the driveway, Aemond’s motorcycle probably laid in parts in the garage, and Daeron had always been more content taking a town car than actually driving himself anywhere.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Y/N told him as she held his hand tightly. He had asked her to come with him so she could at least meet them. They needed to see how he had changed.

“I do have to. If for no other reason than to show them I’m not who they remember me to be,” he told her.

“Did you talk to Dr. Wilson about this? I mean, I just, I don’t want you to,” she said, trying desperately to find the right words. He silenced her with a kiss to her forehead.

“And I love you for it,” he said to her, holding her hand as tightly as she held his. “I’m okay with whatever happens in there.”

He knocked hard on the door. It wasn’t long before his mother answered. The ever looming presence of Alicent Hightower, never Targaryen, filled the entire space of the door frame. Her auburn curls were tied neatly back into a bun, her brown eyes widened in surprise.

The woman before him, despite being in her forties, showed no true signs of aging. There were no gray hairs scattered around her head, no fine lines or wrinkles. The only indication of a less than flawless appearance were the almost invisible lines that came from the outer corners of her eyes, put there by the fact that just like Aegon, her eyes would always squint up whenever she smiled.

“Aegon,” she said quietly. She looked at him like she saw a ghost.

“Hi, mom. Can we come in?” he asked her, biting his lip. Y/N gave his hand a small squeeze as if to remind him she was with him. He had her support every step of the way.

Alicent nodded silently and stepped to the side, allowing them entrance. The house was the same as the last time he was here. All of the old family photos hung on the walls of the hallway to the living room. The air smelled of cedar wood and spiced apples, giving it the perpetual scent of fall. It was warm and inviting, the plush couch so comfortable beneath him it was almost indicative of how much money his mother spent on it.

In a lot of ways, the house felt like his family. It was the epitome of warmth and love on first glance. When you looked closer, you could see how some of the picture frames were void of glass, having been broken in one family argument or another. There was a coat the hung on the same rack, day in and day out, hiding the hole where his head went through the wall in a drunken stupor. The paint on the walls were beginning to chip away, revealing the yellowing walls that proved how much his dad had liked to smoke. It was haunted, irreversibly scarred by the past.

A maid came around and asked the three of them if they wanted a drink. Alicent requested a glass of wine. Aegon noticed how surprised she looked when he just asked for a soda, like Y/N was having. He also noticed how she kept looking at his hand that held Y/N’s.

“And who is this?” She asked, nodding her head to Y/N.

“This is the woman I’m going to marry, Y/N,” he said confidently.

They hadn’t spoken about it, there wasn’t a ring on her finger. But he had no doubt in his mind that he would marry her. He was certain that she was who he was made for. The gods had her in mind when they designed him, knowing how much he would love her. She truly was his soulmate.

“And so you came to show her how terrible we all are?” she asked him, eyebrow raised. “Or did you come for money? Because you’re not getting a dime.”

“Neither,” he said firmly. “I just wanted you to see me, mom. I wanted to see you.”

She was surprised at his words. The last time he had spoken to her, he had been begging for money. Crying, begging. When she refused, trying to help him in the best way she knew how, he screamed at her about all of her faults. The last words he spoke to her was how he could only hope that he had the courage to kill himself before he turned into her.

“I’m sorry for…for everything,” he told her. “It wasn’t fair of me to blame everything on you.” Y/N squeezed his hand again. He looked down at their hands and he knew he was okay. He would be okay. “I’m like, eight months sober from everything. Not a drop of booze, no drugs. I have a full time job, I volunteer on the weekends at a secondhand store. I’m doing good, mom.”

Tears flooded to her eyes as she looked at him. Her oldest son, the first person she ever truly loved in a selfless manner. She had thought he was completely lost to her. The vicious creature he had been when they last saw each other had melted away entirely.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” she asked him. He could only wordlessly nod, allowing her the time to stand from her chair and walk over to him. She hugged him tighter than she ever had.

He looked over Alicent’s shoulder at Y/N. The woman he loved was watching him with tears of her own, a smile on his face. She was good, too good, for him. She had opened his eyes to a reality he had been scared to face. But she had never once made him face it alone.

And that made all the difference.

#dividers by benkeibear #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen x reader #mental health #recovery

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torialefay · 8 months ago

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this may be kind of an unusual question so feel free to ignore it, but i tend to make lots of links and associations of concepts/situations with music and stuff and so i'm curious, what are some songs that you'd pick to describe what it would be like to be in a relationship with chan? or some songs that suit his placements (for example, i think work song by hozier is peak scorpio venus devotion level haha)

okay i LOVE this question!!! (also currently in a hozier phase so i love that you brought up that song.) if you have any other recs, pls send them my way, but here's some that had come to mind:

✨🎶 Dating Channie Sounds Like 🎶✨

the friendship/relationship stage:

i don't think it's just me who thinks that chan is gonna have to know & be friends with someone before progressing to a romantic relationship. i think he could definitely pine over someone for a while and be too scared to say anything. and then if something DID happen between the two of you, you would have to hide it for a pretty longgg time. that's why i chose these 2 songs :)

• human - dodie ft tom walker ✨

• hush hush - the band camino✨

actual committed relationship phase:

• medicine - royal sugar ✨ this gives me such new-relationship, pent-up sexual tension vibes. this man would not be able to stop thinking ab you sexually when you first get together... 100%. sex w/ him is likely initially more fun, like in this song, but once he gets to KNOW you, it gets wayyyy deeper

• tenerife sea - ed sheeran ✨ this one might be a cop-out bc chan has sung it multiple times on channie's room but i couldn't NOT put it in here. moving past the superficial, this song paints such a new, mesmerizing love story. you are elated you finally found your person.

• mess is mine - vance joy ✨ i'm sorry but the lyrics "this body is yours and mine" & "now your mess is mine" is so channie-coded to me. he is offering himself up to you. anything you want from him is yours & he will take on all of your hurt

• fire and the flood AND lay it on me - vance joy ✨ these were just so all-encompassing, i couldn't not include them. you become the most consuming part of his life. he quite literally can't go a day without thinking of you and how fucking attached his heart is to yours. you are his everything and only thing. "i always feel you in my blood" & "your love's always finding me out."

• until you - ahi ✨ this song isn't as relevant NOW, but it really throws me into a pre-debut channie love story tbh. bless his little heart 💔 i couldn't NOT include it bc it's still beautiful.

• anointed - miguel AND religion - lana del rey ✨ these have the same purpose, so i'm including them together. when channie is truly in love with you, he won't fuck you- he fucking worships you. well, you worship each other in the bedroom. and i feel this a million times. he needs something deeper and he needs to feel consumed in it. praising each other until you physically have no stamina left in your body.

tough times/drifting apart/ fights:

sorry but i had to add a couple of angsty songs that i could totally see playing out in a relationship w channie </3

• fleeting love - royal sugar ✨ i 100% see this song being about your struggles with a long distance relationship. not being able to work anything out, but also not being able to let them go. "in the elevator with your passport... goodbye is 10 floors down." you just want him so badly, but you don't know you can do this. you were so happy to have him, even if just for a little bit.

• berenstein - the band camino ✨ chan always talks about alternate universes, so i had to add this one in. the line "at another place in time, you were infinitely mine," it makes me think so much about if you were perfect with channie, and you both knew that... but you simply couldn't be with him because of his idol life. but you knew that somewhere out there in a parallel universe, he wasn't an idol, and you were together like you were meant to be :((((

bonus song:

this song reminds me SO MUCH of chris. the first time i heard it, i instantly thought of him. it isn't a love song by any means, it just makes me think of him && his life/all he's been through ❤️

• time's eyes - riley pearce ✨

if anyone has a song they automatically think of with channie, pls pls pls let me knowwww!!!

#bangchan stray kids #bang chan #bangchan imagines #bangchan scenarios #bangchan x you #bangchan x reader #bangchan soft thoughts #skz soft thoughts #skz fluff #bangchan fluff #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines

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nuwanda24 · 2 months ago

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Take Me to Church - Merlin

Just realised how perfect Hozier's Take Me to Church fits Merlin:

"A fresh poison each week" - it's meant metaphorically, but we all know how literal that is in the context of Merlin. There's not a single week that goes by without some magical threat or someone trying to poison/otherwise assassinate Arthur

"We were born sick, you heard them say it" - Merlin was born with magic, he's magic incarnate; Arthur on the other hand only got conceived through magic, so they were both "born sick" from Uther's of view

"If I'm a pagan of the good times" - Merlin basically is a God of the Old Religion, a pagan belief that symbolises the "good time" in which magic was free

"My lover's the sunlight" - Arthur is, as is well established in the fandom, extremely sun-coded, not only visualy with his golden hair. He is the crown prince, later king, everybody looks up to him while noone dares to come too close (despite Merlin). He burns with an incredible brightness for his people, for Camelot, but in the end, he burns out, just as every sun will do eventually. Merlin, on the other hand, is the night or moon to Arthur's sun. He keeps in Arthur's shadow, never seeking attention or retribution for all that he has done. He has to work in the dark in order to ensure that Arthur and by extend Camelot can be safe. He hates it (remember his rant in S3E11 "I hate it, to be the most powerful person I know and to have to act like a shadow, to be special and to have to play the fool"), but he willingly and glady sacrifices his own light so that Arthur's can burn brighter.

"To keep the goddess on my side" - I don't remember if this is canon or just something that most of the fanfics I've read agreed on, but the Triple Goddess is presumably responsible for the whole prophecy regarding Emrys and the Once and Future King, and Merlin needs to keep her on his side, in order to fulfill his destiny.

"She demands a sacrifice" - this could either be the Cailleach in S4E1-2 The Darkest Hour who demands a life as sacrifice to close the veil between the world of the living and the dead; or it is about Arthur, who needs to die in order to be able to rise again in Albion's greatest time of need.

The Bridge is: "No masters or kings when the ritual begins / There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin / In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene / Only then, I am human, only then, I am clean". - that part is less concret, but it still reminds me of Arthur's death scene - only Arthur and Merlin are left to witness it, there are no knights, no Gwen, no Camelot, no titles or rank, nothing but the two of them and their love for each other, the bond they share. And I think that in many instances Arthur was the one who kept Merlin in touch with his humanity. Yes, he was also the reason why Merlin crossed boundary after boundary, making him hate himself more and more and making him believe himself to be a monster, but I don't think he's ever felt as human (and as powerless) as the moment he felt Arthur die in his arms.

And then there's the chorus: "I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies" - Merlin worships Arthur, there's nothing he wouldn't do for that man, no matter how much he insults him or how hypocritical his actions might be. Arthur can break any promise, tell any lie (not that he does that very often), Merlin will still be there. And in the end, like Odysseus' dog Argus, he waited and waited on the shores of Avalon for the day that Arthur might finally come back to him.

"I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife" - I mean, that's literally what happens. Merlin tells Arthur about his powers, and you can't tell me that he wouldn't have allowed him (after he'd have forced him to get healed and ensured that Arthur would live) to put any punishment upon him, even death, that he wouldn't have preferred to die by Arthur's knife than to have to live without him.

"Offer me that deathless death, oh, good God, let me give you my life" - how often does Merlin offer his own life for Arthur's? From the very episode on, he throws himself between his prince and everything and everyone trying to harm him, from knives over curses, to drinking poison and Dorochas. And there were so many instances where he should have died but didn't, suffering (or surviving) a deathless death.

The song just perfectly depicts Merlin's (unhealthy) devotion to his king, and how that feeds on his soul.

#merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #hozier #take me to church #I made myself sad #Their story is a masterwork of greek tragedy and I love and hate BBC for doing this to all of us #This rant went on for far too long but I needed to get this off my chest

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wish-i-were-heather · 5 months ago

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TOO SWEET ⤵ NASH HAWTHORNE X READER

ABOUT: 3129 words, no use of y/n

STORY: you meet back up with your childhood best friend, and he gets a bit out of hand.

WARNINGS: drunkess/alcohol? i guess that's it

TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl @zuzanna-jadw1ga @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @jimcarreyfann42 @maybxlle @xoxo-vee @elysianwayy77 @ravishinglyliving @- this is just everyone who wanted to be tagged for grayson cuz i wasn't sure, pls lmk if u do/don't wanna be tagged for other characters!!

inspired by a post by @jkriordanverse <33

A/N: SORRY THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO POST WHILE I WAS GONE BUT THE QUEUE DIDN'T WORK >:( anyway so like i said i saw that post about drunk nash singing hozier and i was like omg yes. this gets kinda long i could've split it into two but i didn't so here we are

You were no stranger to formal events. Your family wasn’t necessarily rich, but you were well off. Somewhat higher status. So it wasn’t unusual for you to be at events that required you to dress up a bit. Put on a dress, do a bit more makeup, put on your good earrings.

But this one was different.

It was a big charity event run by one of the biggest family names in the country, but the dress code was less suit and tie, high heels and pearl necklaces. For some reason, they had decided to play into the fact that they were in Texas. A western themed event. And for some reason you decided to go, despite having no experience with that style.

You thought it would be simple enough. Find a cute but not too fancy dress and a simple pair of boots to match. The dress you were able to find in your closet- a white one that fell loosely to just about the length of your knees, square neck, and thin straps. Nothing too revealing nor too elegant. The event, unlike most, was about simplicity.

It was the boots that you had trouble with.

You’d never worn a pair of cowboy boots before. Silly, supposing you lived in Texas, but you had just never been part of the crowd that wore that regularly. Because you only planned on wearing them to the event, you just ordered a pair online because it didn’t matter too much to you.

Only when they arrived did you realize that they were a bit too big. Nothing crazy, it wasn’t like wearing five sizes too big, more like half. And that half a size still made a difference.

You stepped out of your car in front of the venue. It was some sort of ranch that clearly hadn’t been used as a proper ranch in who knew how long. The large barn doors were open, revealing all the partygoers and tables and drinks and lights and everything inside.

Sure enough, everyone was dressed similar to you. Not too formal. Nothing like you were used to wearing. You felt out of place, even though every other person there looked the same.

With a sigh, you made your way to the entrance. You weren’t exactly sure what to expect there. The only reason you came was because it was a Hawthorne event. You knew that name; you’d known that name your whole life. Your family had been close with the Hawthornes. You grew up with the four boys. Well, mostly with Nash. You were closer to his age than Grayson, Xander, or Jameson.

But as you grew older, you drifted apart. Adulting happened, you got busy, and eventually you lost contact with Nash. You still had his number in your phone- well, at least his old one from when you were fifteen. Odds were he probably had a new one, and you weren’t willing to text and find out.

So maybe some part of you deep down was hoping to find him again here. It was probably hopeless. Such a big event, so many people, the chances of finding Nash Hawthorne were quite low.

Yet here you were.

You kept walking, making your way through the entrance. You were just on time, not too early or too late, but there were already plenty of people walking around. You didn’t recognize any of them.

There were sounds of glasses clinking, country music in the background, and countless voices conversing as the evening began to unfold. You walked through the crowd, awkwardly adjusting the strap of your dress.

There was nothing wrong with it, but you couldn’t help but feel self conscious, even when everyone was just as casual.

Suddenly, your foot caught on an uneven plank of wood, the oversized shoe not helping one bit. With a startled yelp, you tripped forward. Instinctively, your arms moved out to catch yourself. But there was no need, because before you could properly fall, strong arms caught you, helping you balance again.

“Woah there,” a familiar voice chuckled. And as you looked up, you found yourself looking into the amused eyes of Nash Westbrook Hawthorne.

Your eyes widened when you realized who had caught your fall, your face suddenly heating up for no particular reason.

“Nash?” You breathed, hardly able to believe it.

He laughed, his grin widening in return when he recognized you too. “Well I’ll be damned. It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Nash took a step back once you were standing again. “You look great, by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you in this type of dress in… well, ever. The boots too, they look like they suit you.” You could tell he was teasing.

“Am I that obvious?” You asked, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously. “They’re too big, but I figured what harm will it do, right? Oh,” you added. “And, thank you. You look… great, too.”

Why were you being so awkward? It’s just Nash.

Just Nash.

He laughed again, a deep, warm sound that you remembered well. “Thanks, darlin’. Here, why don’t we go sit down? Catch up somewhere quieter.”

You agreed, and the two of you navigate your way through the crowd of people. He was guiding you subtly, his hand gently resting on the small of your back. As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice how at ease he seemed, like he belonged there.

Which made sense, it was his family’s event. And Nash of all the Hawthornes was the one who was most comfortable in those Western-themed situations.

Most likely to win a rodeo.

You and his brothers had voted him that when you were kids.

Nash led you to a quieter spot in the back, as promised. There were some hay bales set up as makeshift seats. Sure, there were chairs that you could’ve snagged from an empty table, but where was the fun in that?

“Have a seat,” he told you. “I’ll get us some drinks.” And before you could respond, Nash was off. You watched as he walked away, finding yourself glad that he was turned away so he couldn’t see you staring.

His hair was about the same length and style from when you were younger- you supposed he found what he liked and stuck to it. But that didn’t matter because he was wearing a cowboy hat. Maybe it was for the occasion, but you knew him, and odds were he was wearing it because that was just what he liked.

But, of course, it had still been almost ten years. He had most definitely grown. Taller, visibly stronger, and his voice had gotten deeper.

You weren’t complaining.

Nash returned, and you were snapped out of your thoughts. “So apparently there’s no alcohol. Avery’s decision, not mine. Hope you like iced tea.”

“Thanks.” You took the cup from him as he sat down beside you, but realized he’d only grabbed one. “Why didn’t you get one for yourself?”

Nash shrugged. “I’m not a fan of tea. Even without sugar or nothing, it’s a bit too sweet.”

“Oh,” you nodded. Then you thought about what he’d said earlier. “So, Avery…?”

“Oh, yeah, you don’t know her, do you? I mean, I’m gonna assume that you’ve seen everything on the news and such, but you’ve never met her.”

You had definitely been paying attention to any news involving the Hawthornes ever since you stopped talking to him. Maybe paying a little more attention than you wanted to admit. “Is she nice? Good to Jameson?” “Oh yeah,” he nodded. “Very good to Jamie. They’re good for each other.”

“Good, good.”

Why were you acting so weird?

Just Nash.

You took a sip of the iced tea, the cold calming your nerves a bit. Nash leaned back on the hay bale, as if picking up on your nervousness and trying to make himself more open.

“So,” he began. “How has life been? Last I heard you were looking at colleges out of state?”

You nodded, suddenly feeling more comfortable when you knew what to say. “Yeah. I went up to Massachusetts.” “Really. Did you go to school there?”

“Yeah. Harvard? Have you heard of it?” You joked. “I don’t know, it’s not very well known.”

Nash laughed with you. “Harvard. You’re kidding.”

“What, you jealous?” Already back into your old ways, teasing him.

“No. That’s where Grayson’s going.”

Your eyes widened. “What? That’s crazy. On the off chance I run into him, I’ll tell him you say hi.”

Your conversation continued, wandering from how your lives have been to his thoughts on the whole inheritance drama when it first happened. Then somehow you started talking about the fact that they now had a dog named Tiramisu?

Oh, Xander named it.

That made more sense.

But as the night progressed, you still found yourself being awkward. The conversation would come to a slow point and Nash would be the one to bring something up and start talking again, not you. Why was it suddenly so hard to talk to him? Sure, maybe you hadn’t spoken in years now, but he was so easy to talk to that it felt like no time at all.

“You know,” he mentioned eventually. “I’ve missed this. Missed you, missed us. We should try to get together sometime, while you’re here.”

There was something about the way he said us.

“Yeah, that’d be fun. I’m here for the next week, so we could-”

“After the party?”

His offer caught you off guard. You wanted to spend time with Nash, of course, but you hadn’t expected him to want to get together so soon. You weren’t against it, though.

“Oh yeah, after this works.” You took a sip from the drink to try to look more natural; it looked even more forced. “Where do you want to go?”

Nash grinned.

“Can you sing?”

A question like that was never good coming from a Hawthorne.

The rest of the event had gone by quickly. Avery had eventually gone up and said a few words, and afterwards Nash introduced you to her. She was nice, as you thought she’d be.

You also said hello to Xander and Jameson again, which was fun. Grayson, of course, was still at Harvard. Xander made a pinky promise to you that he’d “make sure Gray finds you on campus or else.”

Then, you and Nash were off.

He’d only told you once you’d left where you were going: a karaoke bar.

You were not a singer, by any means or definition of the word, but Nash reassured you that it was just the two of you for fun. Neither of you were expected to be professionals, so that gave you some bit of closure and got you a little more excited.

You were sure that there had to be some sort of karaoke room in the Hawthorne House, but that’s not where you went. Nash took the two of you to a karaoke bar. But when you arrived, there was an individual room reserved for you.

Even if it was taking away from the social bar aspect of the karaoke bar, you appreciated not having to sing poorly in front of strangers.

“So,” Nash began once you were settled in. “Have you got any songs to start with?”

You shrugged. “Do you know any Disney?”

He fully gasped. “Do I know Disney? Do I know Disney? Is my last name Hawthorne? Hell yeah I know Disney!”

Nash hadn’t been lying. Together, you sang a song from practically every Disney movie that existed. And as you sang, you realized you didn’t care what you sounded like. He made it so easy for you to let your guard down and relax and just have fun.

Nash, on the other hand, you quickly realized he had a voice. Deep and controlled, like he knew what he was doing. The only cracks in his voice were because the note was either too high, or just the result of him drinking.

It was a karaoke bar, after all.

Maybe he was secretly a professional country singer in his free time, it’d been so long since you last spoke to him that you had no idea.

After finishing Love Is an Open Door from Frozen, you both finally paused to catch your breath after nonstop singing.

“Y’know,” Nash said, taking a sip from the drink he’d ordered- this time with alcohol. “Hans may have been an ass, but he’s a damn good singer.”

You chuckled. “Says you. You are surprisingly good at this.”

“Surprisingly? Ouch,” he said playfully.

“Seriously though,” you continued. You both took a seat on the couch. “Do you sing often or is that just… a natural talent?”

Nash shrugged humble. “I don’t know. I will sometimes for fun.”

“What do you usually sing?”

He took a final sip from his drink, setting it back down with a loud clunk. “Let me show you.”

Hozier.

That’s who Nash liked to sing.

You didn’t know what you were expecting. Maybe some sort of country artist, simply because of how he liked to dress and talk. Not Hozier. But, of course, you weren't complaining. Because those songs seemed to match his voice perfectly. And he sounded beautiful.

Nash had spent a good fifteen minutes singing, taking a drink between each song. Which, obviously, as alcohol does, seemed to have an effect on him. His words grew sloppier, attempts at dancing growing more wobbly.

After a dramatic singing of To Be Alone that felt more like a serenade by the way he looked at you during the chorus, you would’ve thought he was done. He looked pretty tired and out of it from the drinks, too.

But then the next song auto played- Too Sweet, one of Hozier’s newest songs.

Nash Hawthorne, half drunk and easily excitable, practically screamed.

“I love this song!” He cried, running over to where you were seated and pulling you up to stand with him. You laughed and let him take you.

“You know, Nash, I think I’ve really only ever heard this on the radio-”

He cut you off by beginning to sing when the lyrics appeared on screen. You grabbed the second microphone that you’d set aside and followed along as best you could. It was a bit hard for you to focus, though, as Nash stumbled next to you and tried his best to keep both his feet and his voice steady. Though he tried his best, he was failing miserably.

It was hilarious.

“I think I’ll take my whiskey neat,” he sang, or more accurately, shouted. “My coffee black and my bed at three. You’re too sweet for me!”

When the song ended, he finally let himself sit down. He picked up his drink and had another sip, and you then took it from him.

“Hey!” He pouted. “I’m drinkin’ that. You can drink your own drink, don’t drink my drink.”

How many times could he say ‘drink’ in a sentence?

“What?” You laughed.

“I mean-” hiccup. “I mean don't drink my drink, it’s mine.”

“I’m not drinking it, Nash. I promise,” you said, talking slowly the same way you would to a little kid. “You’ve just had too much. And we took your car, I don’t want to have to drive it for you…”

But it was a little too late for that, wasn’t it?

You took the free water bottle that’d come with the room off the side table and handed it to him instead. “There, drink that.”

Nash took the water and without hesitation opened it and chugged it, successfully spilling water all over himself. You didn’t even bother to clean it up, because he didn’t even bother to care that he was now soaked.

“Okay,” you said, more to yourself than him. “We should probably get going.”

“One more song?” Nash asked, failing to balance his hat on his head and deciding to throw it across the room when it didn’t stay on.

“Fine. One more song.”

Imagine your reaction when you recognized the intro to Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.

“I’m not five.”

“You sure are acting like it,” you told him. “Sit still and buckle yourself up or I’ll do it for you.”

Nash muttered something under his breath about you not being the boss of him, but he eventually buckled himself up in the passenger seat of his own car, and you got in the front. Nash wasn’t quite completely drunk, but obviously enough to not be himself, because now he was acting like a pouty little kid.

Yeah, it would probably be best if you drove.

As you pulled out of the parking lot, Nash began typing away on his phone. You didn’t know what he was doing until you heard music begin; he’d bluetooth connected his phone to the car speakers, and was now blasting Take Me to Church.

He sang along, a sound you assumed usually sounded angelic, but now his voice cracked at pretty much every single note. Things only got better worse when he rolled down the window and sang into the dark of the night.

You reached over and dialed the volume down, just a bit. When the song ended, you finally took your chance to speak.

“You really like his music, don’t you?”

Nash nodded. “Mhm. He sounds like me.”

You chuckled and let the car fall to silence as you drove him home.

“I missed you,” Nash suddenly blurted.

“I missed you too,” you admitted honestly. “You’re a good singer.”

“You’re a good driver.”

“I’m only driving because you got drunk off your ass,” you reminded him, keeping your eyes on the road.

“Thank you for not crashing the car,” he said genuinely, like it was the most serious thank he could give you. “And driving me home.”

You sighed. “You’re welcome, Nash. Try to get some rest when you get home, okay? I’m sure you’ll feel shitty in the morning.”

“I’m gonna start now,” he said, earning another laugh from you. Nash slumped in his seat, and brought his hat down to cover his eyes. “Goodnight, darlin’. Don’t let the… Hozier bite.”

That last statement was so absurd that you couldn’t tell if you were laughing, coughing, or dying in response.

You caught your breath, though still laughing quietly to yourself at what he’d said.

“Goodnight Nash.”

You thought back to the times when you were younger, and the two of you would stay up late past when you were supposed to be asleep. Most of the time, the lack of sleep got to you and you’d both say the stupidest things.

Maybe he wasn’t so different all these years later after all.

#nash hawthorne #nash westbrook hawthorne #nash hawthorne x reader #nash x reader #the inheritance games #the grandest game #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #the hawthorne brothers #tig #tgg #mightier than your sword𓂃🖋

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agirlandherquill · 2 months ago

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👋👋👋

Hey!

How you been?

hello hello hello! my goodness i have been away for a long time - made the occasional reappearance but now seriously and genuinely i am going to try my best to come back to writeblr, and when I clicked on this website of utter glorious chaos and saw the motifs I'd missed out on - this question felt like perfect timing, so thank you so much asking!

I lost touch with writing for a little while (less than a month, more like three weeks, which isn't that long and yet it felt like an eternity) because I had to find my way in life as a student and try not to drown in reality on my own - so far, I've survived, I've done well - and oh boy have I been writing recently so, I suppose this post is a little update from the world of little old me, and a heads up for the snippets eventually headed your way writeblr and also this writer's romcom life has a little more rom than com now and it's utter madness (no really, I don't understand how it's happened or even entirely what has happened - but a LOT can happen in just a week, let me tell you - maybe I'll spill the semi-delusional, completely and impossibly unreal beans one day, we shall see) anywho, i'm back and tis the season for hozier, cozy hoodies, cute boots (i fell in love with a pair of uggs on vinted and they are the comfiest things its incredible) and dark, deliciously wicked writing, I love this season almost as much as I love writing, and I have so, so much to share over the next few weeks (stating it now so I have to actually stick to my super-secret but before christmas deadline - hold me to this post if you must, I'll probably need the reminder)

until the next post dear reader, and brace yourselves, because I'm back on writeblr!

~ A Girl and Her Quill

~ ~ ~

now for the tag list!

(p.s if you'd like to be included/notified too, interact with this post :))

@humbly-a-doppelganger @imawholeassmood @frostedlemonwriter @yrndrgn @abditorywriting

@riveriafalll @lead-to-code @casualsuitturtle @floweryprosegarden @joeys-piano

@catwingsathena @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @nothoughtsjustmhaandotherthings @anaisbebe

@drchenquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @tiredpapergirl @pastelpinkhobbies

#writeblr

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juchily · 5 months ago

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songs I want to see in yj s3 (complete unreality this will never happen)

"Outsiders" by Franz Ferdinand I'm thinking a scene with adult Lottie in the asylum with this song playing and my thoughts stop there

"Shake it Out" by Florence + The Machine I'm thinking '96 timeline in the summer scene, just like a happy summer scene. Or; alternatively, it's a horrible mass self gaslight where they ignore everything that's happened and everything they've done (Javi... Jackie... Laura... Doomscoming and Travis), so a more ironic usage of the song

"Hemorrhage (In My Hands)" by Fuel Really this one, "Shimmer", or "Falls On Me" are really Yellowjackets coded so, no other thoughts

"Black Sabbath" by Black Sabbath It's perfectly slow and eerie, this is literally yellowjackets, this song is literally so yellowjackets I can't even. This is the song that they'd put during the finale or a really heavy or edge of your seat moment. "Figure in black which points at me Turn around quick, and start to run Find out I'm the chosen one" "Big black shape with eyes of fire Telling people their desire"

"Fallen Leaves" by Billy Talent FALLEN LEAVES, if you've seen my other Yellowjackets and song lyrics post, you know This song is literally about troubled kids from a troubled place

"You Know You're Right" By Nirvana This song is obscure, like that damned sapphic soccer team

"The Lovecats" by The Cure, this song is not about cats, look it up, tw if you're sensitive to suicide mentions, but the lyrics aren't inherent, you have to look it up to know what it was really written about it's giving... we're doing insane shit together that will haunt the narrative 🥰

"Champagne Supernova" by Oasis CHAMPAGNE SUPERNOVA, like I said before with Fallen Leaves, if ykyk This song is about things changing with time, and I think really encapsulates some themes in YJ

"Cult of Personality" by Living Colour

"Man Who Sold The World" by David Bowie or covered by Nirvana

"Since I Told You it Was Over" by Stereophonics "But you were on your track, it was me turning back, I left you freezing outside" WHAT JACKIESHAUNA "You've seen a cross, it's a cross I bear You're drinking, hard up, living without a hope or a care You're making do to please, see what makes you smile You're not around for long, you gotta see what's gonna move your life right along" ADULT TAIVAN, VAN???? n vibes "My head is filled with lies I told" 🙂🙌😧

"The Freshmen" by The Verve Pipe "We tried to wash our hands of all of this We never talk of our lacking relationships And how we're guilt-stricken, sobbin', with our heads on the floor We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip, we'd say" Shall I say more?

Metallica

VIBES:

"Barracuda" by Heart, what can I say, this is something they'd be singing in the locker rooms

"Spiderwebs" by No Doubt ☝️

"Run Through the Jungle" by Credence Clearwater Revival Just listen to the song, it's so yellowjackets babes I promise 🙏

"Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd or performed by David Gilmour What can I say? We like a good song about reminiscing on past decisions and situations 🙂

"Hunger Strike" by Temple of the Dog

TOSS UPS/AMV AND EDIT SONGS FOR YOU BABES:

"Eat Your Young" by Hozier This is a toss up for me, honestly, maybe it should stay in the edits and amvs 🤷

Greta Van Fleet, something from those guys I KNOW YOU HEAR ME

i need to see a ship edit or AMV to "Will You" by P.O.D. or I think I will combust into a million small lesbian flag coloured confetti that will pollute the local waterways and spread doomed yuri in a bad way because I WANT THIS

The Smith's "Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now", it tickles my brain

"Rabbit Heart (Raise it Up)" by Florence + The Machine Obv, mainly for Jackie thou

Here's the link or you can find it up top at the beggining! On my Spotify you can find another Yellowjackets playlist based off of my first Lyrics post

@rougeclasslover here's the playlist I was talking about carp of the Misty Nation❤️

#yellowjackets #lottie matthews #jackie taylor #van palmer #natalie scatorccio #shauna shipman #laura lee #yellowjackets s3

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oneluckygoose · 5 months ago

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O'Knutzy Week Day 5

Yooo, we've made it to the end!! (Of creating at least, still two more days left but I didn't have time to make anything. Also still written in advance to the actual week.)

Anyway, I figured for the last day I would share the songs on my O'Knutzy playlist I listened to while writing my stories (+ the characters they remind me of and why they did)

Credit of this beautiful thing we call Logan Tremblay, Finn O'Hara, and Leo Knut to @lumosinlove , and thanks to @oknutzy-week-2024 for also just being amazing.

Anyway songs under cut :)

shhh its a shit ton of Hozier

Line Without a Hook, Rick Montgomery - Ok look at me and tell me this isn't Harvard Era Finnlo. "You can hold my hand if no ones there" LOGAN! "All my emotions feel like explosions when you're around" FINN! Nuff' said.

Wish You Were Sober, Conan Gray - I only need one word to explain this one. Harvard. Next!

Sun, Two Door Cinema Club - Mainly reminds me of Finn, especially when he's in Gryfindor and Logan's still at Harvard. But also like listen to it, literally the entire song is just them.

Young In America, Barnes Courtney - Just gives me that Harvard vibe yk, Finn and Logan being best friends and then being drawn apart, it just fits them Imo. ALSO THAT LAST FUCKING VERSE IS SO UGH FINNLO (Also happens to be my favorite song rn so that may be part of it but like it's still them)

Running In Circles, Dead Poet Society - LOGAN. Specifically Logan his last year of college without Finn and him being in pain. Him having to hide it as well, and pretending he's not completely fucking devastated without Finn. Just the angst.

Atlantis, Seafret - Makes me think of Logan being scared and constantly telling Finn they can't and pretty much everything after the night Finn leaves Harvard. The feeling of helpless and inevitable heartbreak is very in line with that period of time.

Mind Over Matter, Young The Giant - Very Logan coded. Kinda how I imagined him with Leo and Finn before they got together. Also, "Cause' I'm a young man built to fall" is just something I think Logan would have told himself on why he couldn't tell Finn or Leo.

To Someone From A Warm Climate, Hozier - Also very Logan coded, I imagine him just quietly singing this into Leo's ear in the dark of a winter night, which are cold in Gryfindor which Leo is NOT used to.

Francesca, Hozier - Ahem, "the entire fucking song". Finn. This song = Finn. More exactly reflecting back on all of the hurt he and Logan went through together and knowing he would do it again. And again. And again. Especially when he's a Lion and O'Knutzy isn't a thing yet.

Home, Good Neighbours - Leo's homesickness, Logan missing Gryfindor in NY, Finn wanting to go back to Logan at Harvard. All of it. Though it did mainly make me think of Leo going home for a little bit after the Rangers knocked the Lions out of the playoffs in Vaincre.

TIMEZONE, Maneskin - Let me take you back to a lovely place called Logan fully ditching all-stars to see Leo and Finn in Vaincre. If this isn't the most Logan song I've ever heard, I don't even know. Also could be Logan in NY, or even Finn in Gryf while Logan's at Harvard.

Heaven Must Have Sent You, The Elgins - Leo. Just the way Leo tends to think about Finn and Logan, and he's definitely played this while dinner was cooking and the three of them danced in the kitchen.

Can't Take My Eye's Off You, Frankie Valli - Leo sings this at karaoke night constantly and you cannot tell me otherwise. Anyway, self explanatory, moving on.

Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene, Hozier - Finn and the way he thinks of Leo and Logan. I think that's enough.

From Eden, Hozier - Yk, I don't actually have a clear explination for this one, it just gives me those O'Knutzy vibes.

Somewhere Only We Know, Keane - Reminds me of Harvard and the Roof, but also just a very O'Knutzy and FinLo song that makes me want to reread Coast to Coast.

Ditmas, Mumford and Sons - FinLo falling apart after Finn graduates. The angst is very appropriate and obviously it doesn't last but this is how I imagine it was back then.

i wanna be your girlfriend, girl in red - Very self explanatory, we don't need to dwell on it.

Figure You Out, VOILA - Hey remember when Logan freaked out when he though Finn got a girlfriend? This, it's this. Every time one little romantic interest and Logan just turns into the embodiment of this song.

Mercy, Shawn Mendes - Ok yes Ik it's basic but this is totally how Finn felt when him and Logan were doing their little dance around each other and it was absolutely Killing Finn.

Thinking Out Loud, Ed Sheeran - OK I GET IT ALSO BASIC but it does genuinely make me think of an older O'Knutzy, one that will love each other for a very long time and will love each other no matter what happens and how they change.

High, Stephen Sanchez - Sorry this song is so Finn being fucking horny over Logan in college and thinking about all the things he would do to him given the chance.

Beautiful Things, Benson Boone - SHUT UP I KNOW BASIC, but anyway this is Logan thinking over the last few years and how things have gotten so much better but also being so so so scared he could lose it all in a moment. His beautiful things are Finn and Leo.

Supernatural, Barnes Courtney - Finn constantly at Harvard. Logan and him are dancing around each other and Logan keeps fucking touching him and being so close and it drives him insane. And just a very Harvard Era song.

Like Real People Do, Hozier - Not Finn saying "can we for once not kiss while we're both crying" and that's literally just this song in different words, ok?

If She's Anything Like Me, MALINDA - Logan with every single girl Finn talks about or even looks at. Finn is genuinely the most perfect and lovable person in his eyes, so why wouldn't everyone else love him, too? And just because he doesn't have the guts to say it, that doesn't mean they won't.

Heat Waves, Glass Animals - Ok ok ok ok ok hear me out..... Actually I don't have much to defend this so Ig it's just all of them staying up late at night just thinking about each other.

Home, Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros - A very FinLo coded song, especially with the "Jade...Alexander....I was falling deep deep deeply in love with you," part because tell me that didn't happen. Also Leo works in here too because home is with his boys and their home will always be with him, too.

When He Sees Me, Kimiko Glenn & co - Definitely what Leo came into his Rookie season thinking. Especially once he met Finn and Logan knowing he'd be head over heels if he wasn't careful. Just very Leo as well because ofc he's fucking defensive of his heart right after Jack bitchass Archer.

She, Foxy Venus - Guess, take a wild guess. Did you guess Harvard Era Finlo because yeah, that's it. More specifically I think Finn and trying to get Logan out of his mind and move on and that not working whatsoever.

Can't Help Falling in Love, Elvis Presley - This took me an embarrassingly long time to add but yeah Very much Leo with his boys and then Logan and Finn with Leo.

Can't Pretend, Tom Odell - Also took me an embarrassingly long time to add considering it HAS THE SAME TITLE AS ONE OF MY FUCKING WORKS but we don't need to dwell on it. Anyway, FinLo again, especially canonically when they have their little talks about loving each other and not admitting it.

This playlist will probably grow but y'all ain't getting my Spotify so it's just a list rn, might add onto it, idk. Anyway, hope this was suitable for a final O'Knutzy week post and figured it be fun to show you what I was listening to while writing all this. Genuinely I had To Someone From A Warm Climate on repeat while writing the first half of With a Straight Face because if y'all we're confused about the vibe, it's that (especially the beginning). Also Supernatural was on repeat for the first part of When We Can't Pretend (Oh and High was on repeat during the Kiss in the second half, lol).

Ok peace I genuinely can't wait to see everything when I get back in August!

#finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #o'knutzy #sweater weather lumosinlove #breakaway lumosinlove #vaincre lumosinlove #coast to coast lumosinlove #I'm so tired I can't tag rn #If yall made it this far congrats sorry for my weird music tase #I would have had more barns courtney if more fit with o'knutzy but unfortunately it does not #I should have gone to sleep two hours ago but alas #here I am #I'll probably just put to someone from a warm climate on repeat until I fall asleep #I'm actually so mad that I remembered can't pretend by Tom Odell only after i'd finished my fic with the exact same title #like that could have been perfect #anyway this was actually made the day before the actual week so I'm not as early in scheduling this one #hope it was a good week #Ill be back in August to see the beautiful trainwreck #o'knutzy week 2024 #was #oh shit #forgot to tag #lumosinlove #told you Im tired #I'm going to bed now

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